Giddyup!

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I bought this photo during my work trip to Poughkeepsie recently. I had a couple of hours one morning and a colleague and I ran out to a few antique stores and over time Pictorama readers will be the beneficiary of several posts about those over time.

I snatched this one up in the first shop which was a real treat with shelves and walls laden with interesting bits. The photo caught my eye almost immediately. Such a happy little fellow!

At first glance I thought this photo was taken inside (something about the stairs and something that looks like a banister but I think is a fencepost) and that was a bit of a head scratcher. That made me wonder if the pony was real. At closer examination it was taken outside and of course it is a real pony – a bit blurry since he didn’t stay still.

Huge cowboy hat (a ten gallon hat on a five gallon size head?) atop his head, this young’un is decked out from head to toe with a kerchief and chaps, down to his tiny riding boots. On careful examination there are stirrups that hang down for decoration or use by a larger person and our pint-sized cowboy has his boots tucked into smaller, shorter ones.

Our pony is a natty little fellow too with his or her shiny bridle. There’s something about the precise focus of the little boy versus the slight blur of the pony’s head that creates a sense of movement and dimension. There is some sort of chemical mistake behind the horse, a dark blot drawing your eye back.

Set up as freestanding.

The cardboard self-frame is nice and cheery. There is a ribbon to tie it closed or it can stand on its own which is how it was when I first spied it.

On this trip I was with a new colleague who I was getting to know a bit better. As it happens he hails from Nova Scotia and revealed in conversation that his family had horses growing up and he actually had a pony. However, he also said that he was kicked more than once by said pony, as well as some of the other horses on occasion. He was not left with a lasting love of horses as a result. Food for thought but despite that story, I can’t help think that the boy in the photo was one lucky fellow.

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Blackie sitting with my computer and bag of vitamins and meds this AM.

Update on the NJ cat fiesta. Cookie remains under the blankets on the bed. She slept behind my knees last night. Blackie is starting to venture out a bit and came to me for some purrs and conversation. Beau (another all black cat who was rather amazed to find a doppleganger in the house) tried to make friends, but Blackie was not ready and sent out a series of quiet hisses. However, neither of them is willing to eat! I am stymied by their combined continued refusal and even offered tuna. Please send advice if any!

Peaches and Beau, largely undisturbed by the visiting felines in the bedroom.

Stormy Weather

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Ah, yes. A return to photos today and this recent acquisition which exceeded my expectations when I purchased it. I have discovered, the hard way, that purchasing photos off of Instagram sales is different than buying them on eBay. One must act very fast and can’t really study and consider a thing the way I like. Therefore, there’s been a fair amount of leaping and some purchases that have left me scratching my head when received. Such is the life of an online photo collector. Nonetheless, it has broadened my horizons and this example is a gem of the non-cat photo variety.

It is a smallish photo, the actual image is three and a half inches, square. It is permanently affixed to the white decorative cardboard mount. I am inclined to say it is a cabinet card, but I defer to some of my readers who are more specifically knowledgeable in this area to offer a correction or fine tune that assumption. On the back it reads, Brown’s house in pencil in one hand, and in pen below in another script, Medef’s Camera, Dec 16, ’01. I purchased it from a seller in the mid-west and I would make a guess that it depicts a scene there, but hard to tell of course. It was sold to me by a woman who runs two accounts, one for antique clothing and jewelry (@spakeasachildvintage) and another I first discovered her under, @_wherethewillowsgrow_, for old photographs. I frequent both.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection

What I find somewhat remarkable about this photo is both the subject matter and the ability of an early photograph to capture it so well. I not sure I envy the early photographer, perched on the shore, capturing this roaring and roiling body of water. It is winter, there is snow on the hillside on the other side of the water and if you look carefully you can also see the icy banks across from they stood to take the photo.

The moving water is in sharp focus meaning it was a pretty fast exposure for the day. The Brown’s house is presumably the pleasant looking house across the way, a bit hard to see but visible. Hard to say if their property was threatened by the rising, violent water. There appears to be a whirlpool, or perhaps just a deep cavity formed by the waves, to the right side of the photo. It is quite a maelstrom.

Pictorama readers know I grew up on the Jersey shore, on the Shrewsbury River and only a few minutes from the ocean. River flooding and occasionally violent hurricanes, were not uncommon and dot my childhood memories – mom picking us up early from school before moving the car to higher ground and walking home in advance of a storm; watching the river burst up over the bulkhead and into our yard and around the house; the cold feeling of the water rushing under the house during a flood; geese paddling by and peering in the back door.

Despite that, I don’t remember seeing our river in quite this state – perhaps because the Shrewsbury was not contained by the same sort of deep embankment as is shown here, maybe made yet more active by a nearby falls. (Hurricane Sandy was the first time my parents evacuated during a storm and after a lifetime there they moved not long after, being too elderly now to deal with the extremes of life on the water. Mom lives nearby but definitely inland now.)

The sun playing on the water is always lovely.

As recent readers know, I have taken up running along the East River (attempting to anyway) as part of my pandemic exercise regime. (That post, Running Slowly can be found here.) The moods of the river remind me of my childhood and it is fascinating to watch its many moods each day. In general I am shocked by the current which almost always seems to be very strong and fast. Even without boats (and there are boats in winter, a more or less steady stream of ferries, tugs and cargo ships) small waves, sometimes eddies and whirlpools. On a very windy morning the water can slap the bulkhead and spray as I jog by. The extremely calm day is a rare exception. I find it irresistible to photograph in all its moods and record it ongoing, as seen here, often with the early morning sun playing on it. Being near it now reminds me of my childhood and endless days of watching the water out our windows.

A strangely still day on the East River recently.

Living by the water you are quick to learn that, much like life in general, one day it can be as calm and smooth as glass – and the next it can whip itself into a fury.

Strong currents in the East River in November.