Pam’s Pictorama Post: In both life and in collecting I show a marked preference (purfference?) for cats over dogs. Having said that, it isn’t that I don’t like dogs and I think if I had more resources, including space, I might collect dogs too in greater or even equal shares. (To say nothing of additional pet ownership which cannot currently include canines.)
Last Christmas I wrote about a black and white toy dog I carried insistently everywhere as a child – Squeaky. (As it happens I still own Squeaky and that post can be read here.) I suppose it isn’t surprising that I was very involved with and possessive of my stuffed animals as a child, early signs of a collector. I was a bit linear in my affection – first it was Squeaky who was carried everywhere, followed by a Koala bear my father brought me from a work trip to Australia. The bear had no name, but he was carried until he was bald of fur (probably rabbit fur, sadly, in retrospect) in spots. I no longer have him unfortunately although I did find this type of toy and shared previously here. There were probably earlier denizens who I do not remember.
Me and Squeaky. This is a Christmas morning shot, but I don’t think it was when I got him. Just professing my undying affection for him probably!
My childhood was also filled with a series of real pooches, from our German Shephard Duchess to a rather maniacal mixed breed hound named Charlie Brown. I like dogs and generally they like me. Occasionally I find my enthusiasm gets the best of me and discover I have encouraged a very large dog to try sitting on my lap as a result. (When this happened with a friend’s German Shephard it did give me some pause. There was also an enormous Tibetan Mastiff who like the cut of my jib when he met me and just about knocked me over with love.)
Has a little green tail! The only green bit on him.
All that leads to today’s purchase, a gift from Kim who offered to grab him up for me! This new guy came via Instagram and our friends in Texas @Curiosities. There is something about him that reminds me of blankets of my childhood. Some of his color is fabric overlays (the red on his jowls) and other is painted on. His nose and mouth are sort of shaved into the surface “fur” or texture of his face. He has glass eyes and I think a friendly dependable expression. There is pink under his mouth which I think is a random addition but works with the color scheme overall.
Squeaky!
I am told that the original seller said he was German, or at least that he came from Germany. He has no tags. His colors and design make me think of Pendleton blankets, a Canadian export embraced in my childhood as well. His red ribbon is worn and I assume is original – matches the red on his face perfectly. His ears (which are stiff with wire) have been carefully resewn in back. He’s about 12 inches high, including his ears.
He is much softer in person than I imagined and he is somewhat stained with years of love and handling. I think the orange stripe from his mouth and on his cheeks are especially interesting. He is made up of a fascinating bunch of colors. In sum, he is a handsome fellow who has been much loved.
So another dog sneaks into Deitch Studio and the Pictorama collection. May the kitties beware!
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Today’s is an odd photo postcard I picked up recently. In 1902 Kodak introduced photo postcard packages were able to print their negatives right on them and I imagine that this card, sent in 1905 seems to be of this genre.
As I envision the making and using of these cards (something I actually have spent some time pondering) I wonder if they made a little pile of them at a time or only printed the one off. Will I someday be searching through eBay or a pile of photos and find the exact card but with a different message? (Imagine my surprise!) It seems like it could happen, but it never has to date.
This card, as is declared decoratively at the top, was sent on December 21st, 1905 from Berlin, New York. After some serious study, it appears to have been sent to Mr. J. E. Whiteker in Barnstead, New Hampshire. (There’s one word I can’t quite figure out – center? outer? Barnstead.) There is also a notation in pencil in the upper right corner, 7/27/75 15￠.
Shown as a plump puss with a fairly satisfied look on his face which belies the message to some degree. He is perched on some sort of print fabric and behind him there is a check tablecloth piled high with books.
The message on the card appears to read as follows, Dear Brother (?) This is the cat that didn’t kill the rat – we didn’t get a good picture. (Serve?) him a good Xmas dinner and make him grovel for it. “A personal Christmas to you from us. Herbert. Clearly a message of great holiday cheer.
Inability to execute a rodent notwithstanding, kitty looks pretty well fed and happy. A smile lurks in his genial expression. At a glance, he doesn’t really have the promising appearance of a rat killer, although with cats looks can deceive I suppose.
Miltie, napping nicely.
This sort of stripe-y tom is reminiscent of several of the New Jersey crew I inherited. Milty, a stray from Newark and Peaches, rescued from a basement in Long Branch, both fall into this distinctly indistinct category of cat. Most notably, our outdoor man, christened Hobo by me a few years back, fits this bill as well. (Peaches hates Hobo and looks the most like him!) The ongoing Hobo story is known to Pictorama habitués, but his tale is below.
I can’t remember precisely when Hobo showed up except that I believe it was after mom adopted Stormy, a gray and white kitten who was also being fed at the backdoor. Like my mom’s other rescues, she showed up persistently and was looking increasingly poorly when mom trapped her with the intention of spaying and releasing her. She turned out to be a very shy, but good natured kitty and she never returned to the outdoors. (She still chases her tail, like our Cookie!) Therefore, Hobo probably came into the fold around April of ’22.
Stormy.
Hobo, a bit of a reprobate, has resisted trapping. He’s a wily fellow who, when he is around, will ask for meals several times a day, leading me to think he has worms and wondering if I might slip something for them into his food. Last year this time mom was fairly focused on trying to get him trapped and in before the winter, but try as Winsome and I might we could not entice him in, making me wonder if he had been trapped in a cage before.
Peaches and Hobo. Next to Peaches is a favorite toy rat which is often a gift on my bed when I am there.
Unlike the others mom eventually trapped and adopted (I inherited five cats, plus Hobo from her when she died in April – yes, plus two here in NY), Hobo has the real earmarks of a life lived outside. I’m sure he looks older than his years and of course living the outdoor life, while sort of swinging and intriguing, is likely to drastically reduce his life span. (A Peaches to Hobo comparison below!)
Over the summer I had a video texted to me by a horrified Winsome who came across Hobo feasting on a rat! Evidently he had also brought her a dead mouse – gracious acknowledgment of the many meals she has given him. Clearly however he was supplementing his protein with a bit of a la carte dining. I had the opposite reaction and said he deserved a promotion and give that cat some treats! (We are not far from the water and we are always somewhat in danger of being overrun by rats.)
Sadly, Hobo seems to be on the lamb these days and hasn’t shown up in more than a week. Winsome reports daily and has tried leaving food out for him in case he is visiting at odd hours. It isn’t the longest he’s been gone and I believe (hope) there are other folks in the neighborhood who feed and look out for him. (We’ve seen him picking his way, very dignified, through other yards and down local streets.) We are decamping for several weeks in New Jersey and I am hoping he reappears then if not before.
Edit: I received an update tonight that Hobo showed for a late dinner! We’re very glad he is back in the fold.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: I am writing this, at least starting it, on one of my last day’s commuting to work from New Jersey at the tail end of a rather glorious vacation here. Kim, cats and I will make the trek north on Sunday, perhaps when you are reading this, and reinstall ourselves in our tiny Manhattan abode.
It took all these weeks but Blackie discovered the kitchen on our last day here!
I’m not sure what Blackie will make of the move, over time he has adjusted handsomely to his somewhat more expansive New Jersey life and the existence of five other cats – at least somewhat. He has annexed the east end of the house, taking our room, my mom’s old bedroom and three bathrooms as his territory. He has never seen stairs and has not mastered that concept yet so while he has acquired about half of the downstairs, little does he know that there is a cat warren in my office upstairs.
Kim and Cookie.
Cookie has fared less well and has spent her time behind the chair where Kim prefers to work in our bedroom. She has let her displeasure be known in numerous ways, most notable with some disrespect to said chair and Kim’s clothes there overnight. We hope this too will pass.
Tomatoes still ripening on the deck.
Kim seems rested and is back to work on his book while I commute to the city and back each day, reentry into the madness of fall in Manhattan and the kick off of our season at work upon me like a switch has been flipped!
These dahlias have just kept on keeping on.
I have made trips to the New York apartment and even spent the night there. It seems so empty without Kim and the kitties. I told Kim that the apartment is full of ghost cats which spend the night with me there.
Lettuces, cukes and mums for fall.
Starting next week my schedule becomes such that commuting would become very difficult, dinners and evening appointments are starting to dot the calendar. I will be back and forth to Jersey but gone will be the long quiet nights on the deck with the bats and fireflies – and slugs. I discovered slugs at night there.
Jasmine plant which seems happy and blooming.
I am realizing that this is really my first vacation in years, since before the pandemic easily, although the summer of ’19 was not a relaxed one either. (For posts about that summer, the work trip to California, the kitchen renovation and a long business trip to South Africa you can find them here, here and here.) All the recent years in memory have had me either working around the clock (the pandemic years) or ferrying back and forth to mom and taking care of her.
This summer strung out like glorious pearls and I enjoyed my time with Kim and ALL the cats, my newfound love of gardening and working on the house. I refinished furniture, planted, pruned, cooked and enjoyed long evenings on the deck.
More cucumbers and lettuce.
Saturday night now. The bags are (mostly) packed. Cookie and Blackie are unsuspecting about the trip back to Manhattan tomorrow, but somehow Beau (the other big black cat) knows and he’s very sad and clingy. Today started rainy, a humid sun came out for much of the afternoon before thunderstorms rolled in this evening so it is hard not to feel glum about vacation’s end.
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We’re back in Manhattan. Tough ride in with the thunderstorms and cats howling! They are considering this cosmic shift in the universe from under the bed. Whew!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: As I start this I sit in a train tunnel to NYC from NJ with an absurdly loud snoring generating from the seat in front of me. This man needs help I think.
The great summer experiment of 2023 got off to a rocky start (see the cats not eating post here) and although it has improved (cats have resumed eating and now are focused on fighting with the NJ cats) we are still in somewhat dubious turf, especially when it comes to developing my commuter chops.
Local honey. I run past here frequently and am tempted but how to get the honey home?
Last week, after a debilitating trip in for a breakfast appointment which was stymied by an express train that went local, I made it to Penn station in the nick of time to hop on. My commuter skills have been acquired painfully. I hopped on a train one evening in the nick of time only to discover that you cannot buy a ticket with a credit card on the train.
Anya and her double decker cat stroller.
To pay cash you pay a hefty fee so the conductor left me to try to put the app on my phone but it went into a repeating ring of spinney ball Hell, perhaps because the internet signal was coming and going. Much to my surprise, a very nice gentleman who was sitting next to me spontaneously bought my ticket for me which was lovely of him.
Then there was that Friday when the line I take stopped working and I hopped the ferry instead. A nice ride for me but miserable traffic for the friend who picked me up.
Historic house in Red Bank turned restaurant.
I am slowly returning to running here in Jersey. I lost the habit here toward the end of my mom’s illness when mornings were busy times. I got out and turned toward Red Bank the other day. I had a look at the summer set up – the main drag is closed to car traffic and created a pedestrian path and eating area.
Fig tree awaiting trnasplanting.
Post pandemic the town has suffered a loss of retail like many other places. Restaurants have done best in the rebirth thus far. There is a Tiffany – it is a wealthy area after all. I think of how we used to say that Tiffany set up in the beach communities to salve the conscience of the guilty husbands coming from Manhattan for the weekend, leaving their summer seasonal mistresses in New York. This year I have a taste of being the husband but I can assure Kim (and cats) that they have nothing to fear from my evenings alone in Manhattan – hence no trips to Tiffany.
Local Tiffany’s for those last minute gifts…
For all of the trouble settling in and getting settled, we are now and we are having good days here. The cats are eating on their own. Blackie has annexed a bedroom next to ours and now has two rooms firmly in paw. (Approximately the size of our apartment in Manhattan ironically.) He is finally appearing to enjoy himself some. Cookie has decided that most of her days will be spent behind Kim’s chair, less pioneering spirit in her. Thus far the New Jersey cats seem to take them with a grain of salt.
Lunch and dinner is mostly consumed on our deck off the kitchen where we can survey the beauty of the garden. A fig tree is the most recent acquisition, purchased with two figs on it and several more already peeking out. Tomato and pepper plants are producing now and the herbs are in full cry. A jasmine plant acquired a few months back has its first bloom although my vision of evenings heady with the smell of jasmine may have to wait for another year.
Ferry was crowded last Friday when train went down.
I have strung fairy lights around the deck and added solar ones in both the front and back which also pop on as it gets dark. A portable speaker and my phone are all we need to play some music. Hummingbirds make a sunset appearance at some flowering trees. As dark falls and the lights twinkle on, tiny bats swoop in to feast on the mosquitoes – which have been feasting on me. Fireflies blink (do the bats eat them too?) and I think that yes, this is summer at its best and at last.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Back in May of ’20 I purchased a card in this series for Kim. I had never seen the work of the artist Clivette and I wrote a post on him and the card which can be found here, and another shortly after which can be found here. I understand from a reader that Mr. Clivette was a much bigger deal than I had figured out so I am not sure I have given him his full due. A few weeks ago I was making a purchase on Instagram and threw this card onto the order at the last minute.
Although unstamped the back does have childish writing in pencil. It says, Miss Ina S Chilling, Wray, Colo.
Back of the card.
Unlike the Butler Deitch kits, whom we will discuss in a minute, these are white cats instead of black ones and if you are like me you might subscribe to the theory that different color cats have different natures. White cats are a bit more prim than black ones in my opinion. Years ago my mom had one named Kittsy. She was extremely timid, pinkish eyes and never grew much beyond kitten-sized.
We are two little kitties As kind as can be I love her and she loves me
Although this card professes the affection between these felines they don’t look especially fond of each other frankly.
Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.
For those of you following the tale of our summer decamp to New Jersey you already know that Cookie and Blackie have taken the move hard and have gone on a hunger strike of sorts. Although Cookie is showing signs of starting to eat on her own after a week of hand feeding, Blackie will not take the plunge. In addition, they appear to take no comfort in each other and in fact I just had to break up a growling, hissing fiesta. Brother and sister they have always been together, but sibling affection evidently only goes so far in Catland.
Turns out that Beau is Blackie’s doppleganger! Here they are having a moment. Beau has been very welcoming.
I have known cats who evidenced real affection for each other. Growing up we had a long skinny orange chap named Squash and he had an extreme fondness for another cat of the house. I am having trouble remembering which cat he used to curl up with. They would sleep with their arms around each other.
As I write this, late on Friday night, at long last I hear the gentle crunch, crunch, crunch of Blackie eating some dry food from the dish!
Pam’s Pictorama (better late than never) Post: Today is the day! In a few short hours Deitch Studio will pull up temporary stakes and head to the hinterlands of New Jersey (out in the country my grandfather used to say although we would have defined it more as suburbia) with all the denizens of Deitch Studio (Kim, me AND Cookie and Blackie) for a month of Jersey shore magic.
For those of you who haven’t followed the tale, I inherited a small house and five cats in New Jersey at the end of April when my mom died after a long illness. Someone on the Jersey side tends to cats and the house and I go back and forth ongoing. It is my first go at home ownership aside from a studio apartment co-op in Manhattan which has the blessing of coming equipped with a superintendent and staff. Like all those before me in such a venture, I am somewhat overwhelmed by the demands of a house and yard – not to mention a grand total of seven cats when we add in the New Yorkers, Cookie and Blackie.
Beau and Miltie, utterly unconcerned with new cats in the bedroom.
I have taken to parts of it amazingly well. Mom had a beautiful garden and it turns out to be in the blood as I have not only maintained it, but already added to it. (Full disclosure, I have lots of help.) My addition has been a small herb garden, strawberries, peppers and lots of tomatoes! Comestibles! I don’t know how green my thumb is, but I have enjoyed the adventure thus far and it seems nothing short of a miracle to grow food we eat.
Blackie’s carrier earlier today…
However, compared to what has come before, the addition of two NY kitties to the bevy of cats in New Jersey is an event. Our cats, Cookie and Blackie, have never met other cats. As far as they know, they are the only such specimens in the world. Imagine their surprise later today when they are thrust into the den of five others – oy! They will spend their first few days (minimum) in our bedroom to acclimate.
The New Jersey crew consists of: Beauregard (aka Beau – undeniably mom’s favorite), Milty, Gus, Peaches and (the ever shy) Stormy. Aside from Milty, who is a true senior citizen but not going anywhere anytime soon, the rest are quite young so my cat farm enterprise seems unlikely to diminish in the near future. It was mom’s last and most urgently stated wish that I keep the house and cats so, crazy though it seems, that is what I am doing and hopefully today is the beginning of a new chapter of feline detente and future such trips can be planned.
Look very hard for the hidden Cookie!
I have employed our friends at Chewy.com (we’re super tight now) to send food and litter that will help fairly replicate C&B’s precise existence here in New York. I think we have a rough morning ahead however.
Likewise, over time, I have assembled a fair replica (I hope) of the working bits of Deitch Studio (our NYC home) so that Kim too will not miss much from our Manhattan perch. As for me I have a week or two of at least semi-commuting before I enjoy a few weeks of all New Jersey.
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We arrived! Cats were quite well behaved considering and while they were not silent, they made relatively little fuss. However, Cookie refuses to come out of her carrier (maybe she thinks if she stays in it we will take her back to NY sooner?) and Blackie took up residence in the closet but has now disappeared again which means at least he was willing to wander around a bit?
The deck at lunchtime today. Avocado toaston tap!
A friend and her houseguest wandered by earlier and we had lunch on the deck. Wynton’s newly released archival album of the Hot 5’s and Hot 7’s (recorded in 2006 and put out on Friday, find it for free download on Amazon music here, but available on a bunch of platforms) played on a new portable speaker. While Cookie and Blackie remain unconvinced, I think Kim and I are already adjusting to the quiet of summer life here. More to come, but I think a good month of low key adventure ahead.
I promise to return to the land of Felix and other toy treats tomorrow!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: It is Fourth of July morning and here in New York we are waking to wet and threatening skies after a night of thunder storms. I was never afraid of them as a child, but have grown to dislike them as an adult, perhaps in sympathy with a general sense of distrust of them among the felines. (Cookie and Blackie will bear up to a point and then, Cookie in particular will migrate to the front door, the innermost spot in the apartment, and look at us like we’re nuts if we remain on the couch by the windows.) Up on the 16th floor the winds howl a bit greater than at ground level, but my dislike is no lesser when in the house in Jersey, with rain pounding on that small structure.
Carl Schurz Park.
Having been caught in the rain while running yesterday and I am watching the fast moving clouds and calculating my opportunity for getting away with an hour of running in a bit. The jury is out as I write, but running is my only real plan for the day which may disintegrate into cleaning and organizing the apartment. In a small space like this it always seems to be a need, the cleaning and organizing.
Recently I wondered if I was neglecting the apartment in favor of work needing to be done, paid for and directed in New Jersey. Still, new carpet pads have been purchased for Deitch Studio and I need to trim them and wrestle them into place. I have replaced an especially tatty rug. I clean and organize, and organize some more!
Recent rug purchase for Deitch Studio.(Washable and largely cat proof.)
I will head out to New Jersey tomorrow and I expect that this entry will be finished there. I look forward to seeing how the garden has grown – the blueberry bushes were laden with their yet to ripen wares when I was last there and I am hoping to beat the critters to at least some of them. I understand that the tomato and pepper plants are performing admirably.
The jasmine plant I wrote about last week seems to grow before my eyes and it is embracing its trellis.
The strawberry plant is young, although it has filled out the strawberry pot I plunked it in, but I am only hoping for a taste there. I still am amazed at the simple act of growing food. It has always seemed a bit magical. The herb garden has already provided for many an omelet and a series of sauces, but somehow vegetables seem to be another story.
In mom’s honor I planted a row of sunflowers along the fence outside of our bedroom. I remember her planting some for us kids when we were very little and our shock and joy at how enormous they grew against our little house, as tall as my towering father. I am hoping to find them sprouted and on their way skyward. A friend and her small child are living at the house and I hope she too will be entertained by them.
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It is a week later as I write from New Jersey. Much going on in this small world. The strawberry plant, which I transplanted into this strawberry pot a month or so ago has produced its first strawberry!(Someone, my money is on a chip monk, stole it right out from under my nose however; I have yet to taste this bounty.) Multiple flowers however and a few in an early transitional state lead us to hope it isn’t the last.
One of the pepper plants has coughed up its first progeny, with many more to follow as well I hope.
The first of the bell peppers.
The tomatoes have gone “plumb wild” and are requiring constant staking to help them bear up under the burden of their produce. The tomatoes started out in a sunny back corner of the yard before an enormous bush grew to hide them completely. Luckily it doesn’t block the sun and the tomatoes are growing gloriously.
Initial harvest!
Someone, something, has neatly consumed those sunflower seeds and nary a flower has sprouted. In defiance I purchase two plants that are well underway as replacements.
The bookcases in their before mode, fresh from Suzanne’s basement.
Meanwhile, a good friend answered my appeal for bookcases and dug not one but two out of her basement. A few days have been devoted to giving one a new coat of paint and cleaning up the wood and glass on the other. It has been decades since I have done this kind of work on furniture; I think I was still a kid and doing it under my mom’s supervision. I suspect my muscles will tell me all about it tomorrow. The glass front case is a particular dandy though. I am tempted to use it for toys although it sees better suited for books.
The cleaned up bookcase after considerable elbow grease and help from a friend who had keys made for the locks on the doors which keep them closed.You’ll note the cat proofing on the chairs.
Tonight I pulled the grill out and made a pile of vegetables for dinner. This grill was new last summer. For some reason my mom was insistent that we buy it and that I break it in immediately which I did. However, the heat of the late summer made it a less attractive option than it might be in the cooler weather and I admittedly never really got the hang of it. Luckily however I taped my introductory lesson from a friend and manage to get it started and pull off a fairly credible dinner of grilled vegetables.
*****
Another raging thunderstorm woke me up early and the Jersey cat crew took advantage and got me up early to feed them. I don’t like thunderstorms any better when residing in the house in New Jersey and my real inclination is to burrow back under the blankets. These cats seem entirely unfazed.
This little fellow has camouflaged himself nicely, near one of mom’s many bunny garden statues.
When the sun comes burning out a couple of hours later I witness multiple bunnies (all different sizes!) having an absolute wild rabbit romp in the yard. They chase each other, run and jump high. Later in the day someone tells me they are eating the clover in the yard. I am sorry I don’t have a chance to film it.
Citronella growing like topsy on the deck (and doing nothing for the mosquitoes!) and an injured catnip plant I just rescued is in front of the strawberry pot. Let’s see what the kits make of that!
Despite bug spray and the presence of some lovely citronella plants, mosquitoes abound and feast on me. When I was a kid these bits would balloon up and practically take over whole limbs. Now they are just an annoying itching reminder which I will take back to New York City with me.
The next New Jersey post will likely be after Deitch Studio moves down – part and parcel, Kim, kits and art supplies in August for the remainder of the summer. Stay tuned.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: This scene of early comical commercial carnage is brought to us by Diamond Dye which claims to be the simplest strongest fastest and please know that, they have no equal. And of course so easy a child can use them! Additionally the back also boasts news of three new colors Fast Stocking Black, Turkey Redfor Cotton and Brown for Cotton. I guess no one could come up with a nifty name for brown.
Back of card. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.
Diamond Dyes do not seem to exist today, nor can I find out much about their illustrious history, but they had a robust advertising life in the earliest days of the 20th century. This somewhat unappealing youngster has dipped both her doll and kitty in the dye. I can’t help but wonder if the message at the bottom was also a double entendre – It’s easy to dye with Diamond Dye. Ahem.
Another popular Diamond Dye card, not in Pams-Pictorama.com collection.
Back when I was a tiny tot, in nursery school, and we were living in a small house in northern New Jersey. We had our German Shepard already, Duchess, and a lovely black and white cow-spotty male cat named Snoopy. Snoops was a heavy set, slow moving cat of infinite patience – the one I would routinely dress in doll cloths and play circus cat with. He was not a hugely mischievous cat and in fact this might be the only story of its kind I can think of. He was generally in my words today, a very good kitty.
Mom, who was always industrious about home care and maintenance, had gotten the idea to paint the brick floor of the screened back porch bright red. And yes indeed, when she wasn’t looking, Snoopy made his slow determined kitty walk right across that wet paint and kept going, so not only did we have a cat with bright red paws (at first mom thought they were bleeding), but of course his paw prints after he marched across the kitchen. He remained dignified, quite unconcerned and unfazed by the fuss he ultimately caused. The dog, who was always misbehaving, was probably overjoyed to see the cat in trouble for a change. Clearly mom must have flipped out since I remember the whole seen these many years later. (For some reason it also reminds me a story from the same era when a friend of my sister’s smeared lipstick on one of the walls. Mom had great fortitude it seems and she didn’t kill him. His name was David Mount – no idea why I remember that. I wonder what he grew up to be?)
Nifty dye cabinet – wish it was in my collection!
My own experience with dye is limited to some batiking I did in high school and college. To keep the melted wax in place we used cold water dyes which were far easier and less complicated than these early dyes which would have required boiling water. While I am sure they were state of the art in their day, I think I can understand their disappearance. I can only say I know enough about it to know that I would have probably unintentionally ended up looking like this somewhat malevolent looking child if I had tried to use them.
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: There is a certain kind of cat photo postcard I am a sucker for and this fits the bill perfectly. These two tabby tigers perch together on this bench in this very homemade photo postcard where someone has taken the time to etch their names in during the printing process.
It is poorly made – even before the intervening decades (more than ten) it was likely faded from poor processing, perhaps tired chemicals or just an inexperienced hand. It is hard to see but the bench that Tiger and Tom pose on may actually be a chair that has lost its back. Hard to tell.
Tiger and Tom look ready to make a break for it so I understand the pressure on the photographer to rush a bit. Cats will be cats and these would like to get on with their play in that big field which was probably full of all kinds of interesting things to chase and marvels to consider and conquer.
Greetings from H…ll according to Chic!
On the back, in a clear if youngish hand, it says, Heard you were at the fair. I had a day off but went to Owosso instead. Had a great time. When are you coming to H…ll? Chic and then below, They all call me Chic out here for there are3 Myrtas besides me. It is addressed to Miss Julia Purdy, Fowlerville, Mich. The postmark is indistinct but appears to be from October 26, 1908. Sadly no reference to the puss portraits on the verso.
Milty (left) and Peaches in an uneasy alliance.
Spending time at my mom’s house among her numerous kits (I posted about their general ambivalence to me recently which can be found here) I am reminded of the feline politics of a house full of kits. Growing up we always had a waxing and waning (usually waxing) number of cats and you become accustom to their pecking order, the shifting sands of affiliations and turf tussles..
A rather noble photo of Peaches this week. She hisses at me when I find her in my office.
Currently in this house Milty is technically senior cat but so old that he is a bit of a figurehead (shhh, don’t tell him) and it is Beau who is really top cat. He rules with a casual paw for the most part. Gus is a male upstart who is always testing the water with Beau who cuffs him about the head and neck and tells him to get on with his own business. This leaves two girls – the ever bossy Peaches and the so timid now you see her now you don’t Stormy. For some reason we refer to them mostly in a formal way – Miss Peaches, Mr. Milty, etc. This goes for all the caregivers too.
Cookie and Blackie rarely sleept together so I tend to document it if I come across it.
All this to say, I see some interesting combinations and odd bedfellows amongst the participants as they look for strength in numbers and allies. Sometimes I find Peaches and Milty napping uneasily together in a chair, later maybe Gus and Beau having a truce in the side bedroom. Everyone loves the room I sleep in and the office I use as these rooms are closed to them when I am not here. There is a great outpouring of cat interest when these doors open with my arrival.
Hobo munching breakfast today. And the reveal of his entry point!
I will close on a stray cat note. Hobo, a ragged looking male I have taken to feeding (because we don’t have enough cats you say!) who consumes copious cans at a time – the cat has a hollow leg I swear. He showed early this morning for his first three cans of the day. We’ve long wondered where he was entering our yard as it is entirely fenced in. Today I discovered his path and a small hole in the fence, with a well-worn cat path clearly defined!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: I am in love with this photo and snatched it up as quickly as I could! A timeless image for cat lovers, caught on an early photo postcard. Somehow, even with slower film, someone managed to catch this perfect moment, the woman in her full white long cotton skirt, her hair carefully done. Puss, who was to have his photo taken, probably in her arms, has other ideas.
So lucky that the camera man or woman was quick on the draw! Kit is quite a fluffy furry fellow or miss – tail flying behind him or her – I am betting on him as it appears to maybe be an orange tabby and those are mostly male.
There are leaves on the ground which create a pattern and some space and a Tudor-style house in the background. It is interesting to note that this was used as a Christmas card. Printed on the back with what appears to have been a stamp is some holly and the message, A Merry Xmas to You. Hand written is also, With Mr. &Mrs. Hook’s best wishes 1912, and in the corner just, Jessie Hook.
I like to imagine that the photo, presumably of Jessie, was taken in the early fall and Jessie so amused it became the Christmas card.
Miss Stormy.
It is hard to believe, but here at mom’s there are five cats and almost none will let me pet them. There is of course, Stormy (Cat of Mystery) who will allow no one to pet her – or even see her very often.
For those of you who are new to her story, she appeared one (very stormy) night and my mom put a trap out for her. She strolled into it immediately. After shots and spaying, mom kept her with an eye to finding her a home. Despite some internet pleading on my part, we had no takers and Stormy joined the family – although a bit like a shadow. She appears in the evening most often when the house is at its most quiet. She likes to sleep in a chair near my mom – who never leaves her chair so Stormy likes that stationary aspect of her.
Peaches – has cattitude!
Peaches, another female, was found as a kitten trapped in a basement in a neighboring town, yelling her head off until someone found her. The someone was a friend of my cousin and somehow Peaches also found her way to mom’s house. She is very feral and fiercely keeps humans at a distance of never less than about a foot. Recently though she trusts us enough for a stretch and a roll around on the kitchen floor in front of all of us. I have a long term goal of petting her one day.
Beau
Meanwhile, my mom’s cat Beau (Beauregard) is utterly devoted to her. He glared at us humans who are clearly inadequate to the task of caring for her to his standards.
He’s rarely further than the chair next to her. His yellow eyes following our every move. Mom rescued him from a photo she received from a Newark shelter years ago. He somehow understands that she moved heaven and earth to get him and appreciates it.
Milty and Peaches, uneasy alliance.
Beau will allow me to pet him and if necessary I am usually designated to move him if necessary – if mom wants to eat let’s say. I usually put him on my coat for a snuggle which is novel and meets with his approval.
Gus is another stray who wandered into the house a few years ago. He is a very mild mannered cat – a bit under the thumb of Beau and the elder statesman, Milty. He has a major crush on one of mom’s care givers and snuggles with her, but never can let me get more than about three inches away.
Lastly is Milty – he came from a Milton Road in Newark many years ago. Most senior cat, he is approaching his second decade. He is the squeaky wheel of the house and will seat himself in front of you (or on you) and demand food or attention. Occasionally he takes on Beau to remind him he is senior cat and not down yet.
Milty, senior cat.
I am missing Kim and my own Cookie and Blackie during this extended stay in New Jersey. However, while I may not get pets with each of the (sometimes) slippery kitties here I appreciate their antics and mom enjoys each and every one and loves being surrounded by them every day.
Pam's Pictorama 