Who’s a Scaredy Cat?

Pam’s Pictorama Post: While my timing may miss the mark for Halloween this year, the subject matter in a sense is pure Pictorama. The cat in question showed up from an auction house on Halloween night, having been purchased at an online auction a few months ago. While most auction houses I have encountered actually get items to me very quickly (one called Everything but the House sends out their packages with startling efficiency seeming to arrive within days) clearly some are more pokey. I purchased two things recently, at different auctions, and they have slowly meandered in a few months later. They are both welcome additions and today we start with this kitty – the other is a rather great future post.

*Pams-Pictorama.com* *collection – the office annex. There’s something about his only having three feet on the ground which entertains me.*

This fellow appealed to my black cat Halloween loving sensibility for obvious reasons, although I very rarely purchase contemporary items. I am occasionally persuaded and this cat entertained me. I will say, I won it at auction for next to nothing but they really socked me on postage. I actually rejected what they said the postage was going to be at first and figured if I lost the cat and the few dollars over it so be it. Oddly they came back with something more reasonable and here he is.

It is my intention to have him join another Halloween cat which has graced my office for many decades. I was working at the Met and I don’t remember how this couple knew that I collected black cat items, but they made a gift of it to me one day. Seems their son was a buyer working for Martha Stewart and was responsible for sourcing decorative items for the various holidays which would then be shown in the magazine and probably also sold under her brand. This cat had been a sample among the items he proposed and it was rejected. Somehow his parents saw it and grabbed it up for me.

*More jagged teeth and yellow eyes; he’s missing a bit of paint on his nose sadly.*

It has always been my office black cat if you will. (For many years I also kept the Happy Life wind-up toy, below, in my office because it has a calming and cheering effect on me. I was known to wind it up for staffers under distress, especially while at the Museum. I wrote a post about this soothing toy here and you can see it’s a clip of it wound up as well.) There has been occasional conversation about the scary black cat when he was introduced at various offices and why I have him and I usually just tell the story of his acquisition. However, over time for those staffers who have seen me on zoom from home they have been treated to a small view into the mighty black cat collection and it makes more sense. No one at the animal hospital has asked and I assume that has something to do with being an animal hospital? Or are they just not surprised to find me guarded by a scary black cat.

*New kitty on Kim’s desk. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.*

Both of these cats are made with a plastic arched cat body which is covered in black “fur”. The smaller older one (or one from my office, who knows the age of the additional one) has more wiry legs and you can almost pose him but I have never pushed it. Overall, this new fellow bigger and sturdier. Part of me wonders if he had shown up rather than the other if he would have made the grade with Martha. He is better made, although clearly from the same sort of origin.

The new cat is more substantial in every way. Both have glass eyes and whiskers although both stand out a bit more on the new cat. The office cat has those sort of spindly claw paw toes which are arguably a bit more intimidating than the fluffy feet on the other and his tail is on a jauntier angle. However his red nose is a bit comical and makes him friendlier than the shiny black one on this cat. His ribbon has always struck me as at odds with his overall appearance and if the new guy sported one it is long gone.

Both have been endowed with differently ferociously toothy mouths. The smaller cat has more teeth and the new one has fewer but they really look like they mean business. The many hard whiskers stand up on either side of the gaping mouth complete with a bright red tongue.

This fellow is going to make his way to the office this week now that he has had his baptism by Pictorama post. Unlike my prior offices, I have somehow fallen short of actually decorating this one in a meaningful way. (A post about the black cat sheet music that decorated my office at Jazz can be found here.) My first office for the animal hospital had a terrible leak (think water pouring into pots on the desk and floor) and I refrained from subjecting any of my framed sheet music to it. We moved offices last January and the new office does seem pretty water proof yet somehow I have yet to attempt to brand it much as my own. Perhaps I should be more concerned with the image he projects to staff, yet to know me is to know my love of all black cats – just ask Blackie and Beau!

I Was Much Surprised

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Every day that is a Louis Wain day is a good one here at Pictorama! I have had the pleasure of adding many Wain posts to the collection here at Pictorama, including a review of the recent book. (Some of those other posts can be perused here, here and here for additional Sunday leisure reading.)

Like my post a few weeks ago, this is another example where the sender has (consciously or unconsciously) enhanced the card with their message. Somehow when I saw it I just laughed at those words in script under the cat – thinking that he was much surprised by the basket of kittens! Surprise Pops!

Instead the brief missive written on the card is from a grandma to a sick child – chicken pox I suspect. I believe it reads, I was much surprised to hear of your spotty face. I hope its back soon be better & no marks left, don’t scratch it. Your loving Gramms. (The woman didn’t believe in periods for the most part so I have added them.) It was mailed from Paddington at 5:30 PM on May 5 of 1905. It was sent to Master C. T. Travers, Woolfanger (?), Markingham, Surrey.

The card was produced by the Raphael Tuck & Sons Company and declares in tiny print that it is a part of their Write Away postcard series. It also proclaims that it was designed in England and chromographed in Bavaria. I have only started to focus on the Raphael Tuck cards as sort of the sweet spot for Wain. (They also produced a rather fascinating set of Felix holiday cards. I have a few in my collection and find them almost impossible to turn down at auction – although they go very pricey. One is below and the post for it can be found here.)

Finally onto Mr. Wain himself. Grumpy Papa cat drops his pipe at Momma cat coming from behind the door with a basket load of kittens. Is it the first time she is presenting and surprising him with the kits? Was he, like any traditional papa, pacing and waiting pipe in hand (paw) to hear the baby news? Regardless, it is a bit of a sour puss he presents.

He happens to be tabby-spotty (additionally accurate for this card), he stand on hind legs, tail down. Ears are back in a cat look of annoyance which Wain has morphed with a human expression. Mom cat just looks tired and the five kittens (that we can see) are a mix of tabby, marmalade like Mom a white and two grays – ready to hop out of the basket and start causing chaos. Adult cats stand on a carpet of a sort of wild print with this bit of door between them. As always, Wain manages to express much with a brief, somewhat sardonic vignette.

My family only won the kitten lottery once which if Mom was here she would agree was more than enough. Our female tortie, Winkie, escaped out one morning while in heat, teaching us forever to get kits spade as quickly as humanly possible. Her paramour appeared to be a tabby we’d never seen before. And surprise she ultimately produced a gray tabby, a marmalade one, and two grays – so not unlike this bushel.

Honestly Winkie had little use for them after a few weeks of being very possessive. We kept them all (Tigger, Squash, Ping and Pong) and our feline family burgeoned at that point for a long period of time. I think it brought us to seven. The cats were still free range outside in those days so it was a bit less evident than the Jersey Five (plus visits from Cookie and Blackie) are in the (small) house today. Ultimately Winks started to pretend she had no idea where these interlopers had come from and would growl at them or at best ignore them.

Arguably Wain is pretty much at the height of his popularity and success when this card was produced. It is nice to think of Grandma, long ago, going to the shop and picking it out especially for Master Travers who was suffering a bit from this childhood ailment. My guess is that it cheered him immensely.

Hat’s Off

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: As I wake up on this pretty fall morning, the folks over here at WordPress told me that some of you are hard at work reading away. It is fun to see and thank you all as always for your dedicated reading and attention. It’s nice to know that you are out there and I hope you are enjoying your wander around the Pictorama world. Welcome today to all readers both new and longstanding. It pleases me to think that there are folks who want to read about cats, toys and my minor exploits.

I have an interesting little addition for this post, a postcard from the big buy a few weeks back, of a cat having chewed through a hat. Seems like an odd image to make a postcard of – have to wonder if the artist had a real incident on his mind. The cat is rather pleasantly benign for a chapeau eating demon. He is of the, aren’t I cute so you can’t possibly kill me school I guess. Why would he chew through a hat though? Must have been so pleasantly stinky.

This card appears to have been produced in Eastern Europe – ambitious felines there I guess. It is an embossed image, a very old, worn man’s hat with this sweet faced, long haired kit having munched through it. This card was mailed from Fort Scott, Kansas at 11 AM, on March 21, 1908.

*Back of the card. Is actually a bit easier to read in this photo than in person.*

The pencil writing on the back is very faded and a bit illiterate. The best I can make out is, 3-20-1908 avrr – all ok and a card from Pec. he did not say when he was coming back expect we wont come til Monday if you children are all well. love to all Mother. And it was addressed simply to: Carles J. Pierce, Appleton City Mo. Must have been a small town.

Ongoing readers know that my current gig at an animal hospital has set me contemplating things that pets ingest that they should not. (Foreign Object Friday anyone?) The favorite by far seems to be dogs eating ear buds (owner might even find out because they are gently pinging in the pooch), one of the worse is marijuana they pick up from discarded roaches on the street (very bad for animals, please dispose of thoughtfully), and while it is hard to choose most exotic might go to a corn cob which sort of startled me. Shoes, underwear and socks are not safe from your large pup, I’m telling you that right now.

*Just for kicks and giggles – this photo from one of my very first posts. Someone named Dally Petit shown in true cat hat splendor.*

However on the cat side, this image reminded me very much of a cat we had as a child, Zipper. I have told of his exploits as the swaggering sort of tabby cock-of-the-walk, feline ringleader in our old neighborhood.

I was quite small when for whatever reason one day Mom had to take Zips to the vet. Evidently she was short of a cat carrier and she enlisted me as well. (Later in life she always made sure she had more than enough to move all the cats if necessary, which it was during hurricane Sandy when she moved at least five.) On this occasion she placed Zipper in a rather picturesque antique straw picnic basket and somehow secured the top so he couldn’t bound out.

Zipper was not a cat easily cowed and he sent what we called war whoops and howls from the seat next to her in front (this was an old car and I believe the front seat was all one, not broken into separate seats like they are now), and I was plopped in the back, but of course watching this unfold. Well, Zipper was not to be contained and began systematically eating his way through the side of the basket. (In retrospect, whatever ailed him wasn’t that serious I guess.) It wasn’t long before he was thoroughly stuck, head out but unable to go back in. I can assure you he was a good deal more demonic looking than this puss. Mom, for her part, just kept driving.

I have no idea how we got him home, nor was I there when the vet must have cut him out and most likely asked mom what the heck she was thinking. I wish mom was still around to ask her about that part of the story. This card will always remind me of it however.

Sadly I cannot think of a single family photo that incorporates Zipper – he was a will o’ the wisp of a fellow, always on the move. Somehow he never quite got documented to my knowledge. I suspect it had to do with his aversion to being picked up. A true ally cat, he was very selective about who could touch him and how much. He lives now only in my memory and imagination.

A couple of rather wonderful items wandered in the door this week – a good week at the online auctions. This and that needs to be done before I can share them but some rather wonderful things coming up soon so stay tuned.

Snapshot

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I am giving Pictorama readers a brief break from postcards today. I feel like it has been a long time since I have posted a snapshot. It isn’t because I don’t look for them, but photos that wander into the Pictorama realm are a bit more rarified it seems. This one was found and quickly purchased on eBay recently as someone was smart and noted that a nice Felix lurks on the window shade.

The picture is undated however her clothing and this nice deckled edge on the print puts me in mind of the early fifties. (I recently saw an early deckle edge photo trimmer online. It appeared to be one for home use. I gather Kodak sold printing paper with the deckle edge for a couple of decades – both things interested me because I always thought it was only evident in commercially processed photos.)

It is a small photo, only two and a half by three and a half inches. This woman sits center stage is all dressed to the nines with a corsage on her shoulder, earrings, stockings and heels. However the setting is more seemingly casual with wooden folding chairs. There are plants on the window and a fence with trees beyond it. A bit more of the outside might be a clue to where she is (at best I just see some leafy treetops) although it is an event or a visit somewhere special clearly.

Of course I purchased it because of the somewhat off-model and presumably homemade Felix on the shade behind her. Felix stands hands (paws?) on hips, elbows out. He’s a very angular Felix, with an oversized head and a smile. His tail appears sort of mid-leg at an odd angle, although for cat-a-tude they seem to have gotten him right.

Felix’s image is surprisingly enduring. Consider that the height of his popularity was in the 1920’s to find folks still painting his image on some blinds somewhere in the world of the 1950’s is sort of an odd and interesting thought. Like his competition Mickey Mouse the grip of his image has held fast for many subsequent decades. Leaves me wondering what has been produced subsequently that will have legs as long, hard to beat the famous cat and mouse.

***

As you read this I will be off to New Jersey for a few days of winterizing chores for the house there. My dahlias are still blooming so I won’t be taking them in yet, but the heat filters will be changed and the irrigation system turned off. Pumpkins and mums are already out on the steps but I intend to enjoy my fall garden for a few days. (Tune into Instagram for dahlia update!) See you next week!

Tomasso Catto Singers

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s :Pictorama Post: Today’s post is an oddball card I picked up at the postcard sale recently. It portrays the never ending saga of cats atop a roof, singing their nightly woes and joyous howls. I have numerous entries in this bonanza of images although a favorite is an unusual panorama photo of cats on a fence (and dogs) shown below for a post that can be found here.

This is another of those postcards which is address and date by the sender but no evidence of mailing. On the back it says, For Beatie From Dad. Ramsgate. 24/3/07. Therefore this card is a bit older than maybe I would have guessed.

Cats on rooftops though is also a thing and I wonder about this. Blissfully, I have never found one of my cats, or a stray for that matter, on my roof. That might be because I lived in a very high two story house growing up, but even our more compact house in Jersey does not have rooftop kitties. I assume it is more of a function of houses and row or townhouses close together? How do they get up there and down again? Attics maybe? It must have been a thing because you see them portrayed on roofs as much as fences. Here it is a red tile roof, but definitely a roof nonetheless.

The artist has provided us with some cat diversity in this quartet, two marmalades, a dark gray and a white-ish tabby. Tails stick out handily for the composition on either side and peek up on either side of the Baritone and the Contralto, arguably somewhat strangely placed for the Baritone, sort of in front of him.

These musical felines clutch an advertisement sheet, with claw paws, that looks like it doubles for their music. It promises, Every Night Lessons in Howling by the Tomasso Catto Family Speciality Midnight Concerts/ Three Blind Mice Words by – Prowler Music by – Howler: Sung Nightly by the Mew Quartette. Their fluffy feet peer out below the paper. The orange on the end, Tenor, seems to look the most like a participant in and old-fashioned barbershop quartet. Meow!

(The post for this particularly good Louis Wain image below can be found here.)

I don’t know about my Pictorama readers but I could never rest easy at night if I heard cat fights or howls in my yard. Although I know enough about cats to know the ruckus that can be raised, I admit to being glad that our colonies of strays is largely reduced enough that this is no longer a routine event here in Yorkville or in Fair Haven. A cat meowing outside will drive me nuts looking for it. Far from tossing a shoe at them I would of course be worrying about it. My mother was the same – hence the admission of Stormy and Gus into our family over time. They arrived at the back door with all paws on the ground however.

There were some good times for cats, even domestic ones, that managed to spend the occasional evening out with the fellas or gals as it may be. I have written out our cat Zipper who used to through parties in our garage for the local bunch after raiding a neighbor’s eel pail kept for chum. The price of domestication as I pointed out in a post last week where guest speaker Temple Grandin talked about a dog at the hospital that had eaten and entire shoe. For a quick look at that interesting talk see below. Our town in New Jersey seems to want to strictly restrict cat residents outdoors and the Jersey Five are all indoor cats. Needless to say, up on the 16th floor in Manhattan, so are Cookie and Blackie!

Bon Appetit!

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Four little tabby kittens are playing on this sort of jerry-rigged see saw here. The see saw always seemed a bit fraught with discomfort. You generally ended up falling abruptly to the ground at some point. Ouch! You were somewhat at the mercy of the other person too. Can’t say I have overly fond memories of them as playground equipment goes.

We won’t examine the mechanics of this one too much – it doesn’t withstand study, just a plank on another it would appear. The cat who is high up has that slightly both excited and queasy look that one got suddenly being bounced up that high. Oh my!

The kit in the down position has his back to us, note his tail going off the page, and then we have the two in the middle, one who seems to be officiating in some role. I love that all four cats are tabbies here – it would feel very different if the artist had chosen several different kinds of cats. There is a leafless tree on the left making it feel wintery.

*Back of the card – addressed but devoid of postage.* *You can see it is embossed here.*

It is hard to see but the image on this card is embossed which makes it more dimensional. It was produced in Germany, but the writing on it, front and back, is French. I think it is worth noting that although the back is fully addressed there is no stamp – I am seeing this in my current pile of cards. I wonder if these were hand delivered or put in envelopes or what.

It took some careful study, but all of the writing on the front of this card was added by the sender. I scratched my head over Bon appetit! Are we munching on kittens? It is hard to see but each of the kittens has been named as well, Jeanne is the one on the right, standing on hind legs; Marguerite sits on the lower end with her back to us; Genevieve negotiates the middle space and Simone is up top! This writing is so very neat and printed so small! There is something in the lower right which I think was also applied by hand and it is debatable what it says, maybe CLts?

It was sent to Mademoiselle M. Briffant Mikel at an address I cannot make out – without postage as aforementioned. So perhaps this was sent to a young girl and the names are of sisters? Real cats? Wish I knew but it is charming.

*From a recent post where the commentary and notes help make the image.*

In collecting postcards I have come to realize that the writing on the front often significantly enhances the visual of the card. This is very often true especially on Louis Wain cards I have found where people are alluding to the action in the drawing. (See an example in the post here. Although Wain also tended to add notes in his own hand too. The post for the non-Wain one above can be found here.) Sometimes it is so spot on and seamless that, like this card, it is hard to tell that it wasn’t done by the artist.

*Card Kim recently purchased at the Metropolitan Postcard Club show. It’s all about the writing!*

There is another, not insignificant, bunch of cards from this period where the entire contents are written on the front and then maybe just addressed on the back. Kim bought this card below for that very reason the other day. (Yes, while I was buying the place out of cat cards he made a few discerning purchases as well. You’ll likely see them over time.) The dealer told him that she has one person who collects these but only when written in a certain language. I am unsure what language this one is in, although it is dated February 26, 1907 on the front (postmarked the 27th on the back) and it was sent here in New York State to Miss Maurtha Schwabe, c/o E. Rumert, Green-Ridge, Haaten-Toland, N.Y.

It is not intuitive but the writing on these cards, sometimes intentionally altering the image and other times just looking for space, enhances rather than devalues them – at least for some of us collectors.

Posting About Postcards!

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today I am taking a moment to revel in my postcard purchases, but also to celebrate the postcard show itself. To anyone who has been to the current incarnation of this sale this might seem a bit extreme as it is in a small church in the West Village and made up of about nine dealers.

The first reference to this show in my life dates back to college when one of my professors, collage artist Maureen McCabe (her site here), mentioned in passing that she loved to go to a postcard show in Manhattan. She would pick up vintage cards which she would use in her collage boxes. (She mentioned getting vintage paper dolls there which I have never seen!) Frankly, in my naivete I had never heard of or considered such a thing. Antique stores and flea markets were a part of my childhood but shows of such things for sale had never really occurred to me. And postcards no less. It set my brain mulling.

*The art of Maureen McCabe. “Fate and Magic”, 2013, copyright of the artist. That could be a vintage paperdoll right there…*

Fast forward a number of decades and somehow or other it came to my attention that there was a vintage postcard show (the Metropolitan postcard show) at a (then) old and tatty hotel on the far west end of 57th Street. In my memory at the time it was a Howard Johnson, it appears to be called the Watson Hotel now. (Another sliver of memory is that in my 20’s my then boyfriend, Kevin, and I would get day passes just for swimming pool access in hotels in Manhattan in the hottest of summer. This was one of those somewhat cheesy hotels.)

Who would have thought a room with nothing but postcards for sale would be of so much interest? In those years there was probably twice as many dealers and maybe even some ephemera that was beyond postcards. (How big was it when Maureen went?) If memory serves there were a few people of some note signing or roaming the space. I bought fewer cards and spent most of my time and money at a high flying dealer table groaning with Louis Wain cards.

Sadly, with Covid like some many things it shutdown and although I was on their mailing list it seemed to be a number of years before I caught up with them again. Now I find them in the West Village and reduced in size.

Oddly, for me it is perhaps a bit more manageable and I seem to come away with increasingly large scores and yesterday proves the point. It was a miserably rainy day which may have depressed attendance although business seemed reasonably brisk to me. Kim was with me and settled into a pile of photos of early actors and actresses and even made a few purchases and you will probably see those over time too.

*View while digging through a box labeled “Cat”.*

Today’s card was purchased by me early in the show as I made my way through each dealer; it is Mainzer at his best. I have written about Mainzer before (which can be read here and here) who is sort of the later heir to the Louis Wain throne. Mainzer, as a card producer, picks up that ball in 1938 and runs with it, arguably until at least 2005 when taking the reprints of the cards into consideration. Prior to 1955 the production address was 118 East 28th Street here in New York. (On a whim I did a Google Search on the address and it is worth a look, the Kaime Arcade building with a very interesting facade.) After 1955 it is just noted as Long Island City and that is what is printed on this card. Eugen Hartung was the artist.

While mama cat, dressed for a day of shopping with stockinged legs, heels, hat, gloves and fur trimmed coat, chooses between two postcards, her offspring are tearing the place apart – including I might add, her poodle on a leash! In case you are wondering, yes, each of the postcards has a tiny cat drawing on it. (The other prints on the walls appear to be flowers however.) Allow me to note some oddities about the store. It seems to stock not only postcards, prints and fancy wrap boxes, but oddly globes adorn the shelf too. Cut off at the top seem to be some written labels I cannot quite make out and appear to be written in Hartung’s native Swiss German.

*Another view of inside the church where the Metropolitan Postcard show now resides several times a year.*

The well appointed shopkeepers are both in a uniform dress with matching necklaces. While the one with glasses focuses on Mrs. Cat, the other tries to contend with the kits. She has come running with a pen in hand, clearly interrupted in her clerical duties. The kittens, two boys and a girl, are well turned out but unlike mom and the salespeople do not wear shoes – bare paws all the better to climb with. Each magically has their tail come out from their clothing – including the little girls whose pantaloons we see. Mom’s tail, and that of the saleslady, appear from under their overclothes. (I’m always curious about how tails are worked into anthropomorphic cats.)

Several kinds of cat are represented for variety – Mrs. Cat is a tabby, the boys a tabby and a tuxie, little girls is a marmalade. The saleswomen are marmalade and lastly an odd mix like maybe she has some Siamese in her. One final curi-oddity is that the pooch, having opened the cabinet below, has released two large mice. No one, even the dog, is paying any attention to their escape. A pleasant mayhem is enjoyed by all.

*Back of card – how did it find its way back to the US I wonder.*

Someone has penned card b at the bottom right. An addition mystery about this card is the back which shows that this was evidently mailed to Japan from an indeterminate place in 1976 and has, obviously, made its way back to the United States to ultimately be sold to me. It says in a neat childish scrawl, Dear Jacob, the school is very good and close. all the children are kind to me. I am learning and getting better. I will see you in camp. Nathan. It was sent to: Jacob G. Cohen, 1-32-28 Ebisu-nishi, Shibuya-Ku, Tokyo, 150 Japan. (And for your information, a postcard to Japan in 1976 cost twenty-one cents.)

Lastly (because I have clearly droned on a bit) may I just say that curiously this store reminds me very much of one I used to go to in New Jersey, near the house we now have. I cannot remember the name but was a true old fashioned stationary store and carried not only cards and assorted writing materials, but the more esoteric things a stationary store carried before the internet, such as form contracts like leases, which is what my mother used to go there for. It was long and narrow with windows all along one side. There were similar blond cabinets and perhaps more of a dusty business-like feel but something about this card nags at my brain with that memory. It is sadly now a Dunkin’ Donuts, just a few feet from the post office and grocery store we walk to frequently.

So there you have it – the postcard show and our first edition of the acquisitions.

Everything’s Swell!

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: It’s impossible for me to see this card without hearing a certain sort of cartoon cat voice from my childhood – vaguely sarcastic, probably based on a motion picture idea of what a citified gangster sounded like. His friend and sidekick would reply, Yeah, right boss!

This is among the last of the cards I bought at the big postcard show over the summer. (Never fear, there’s another show coming in early October.) This card looks like it could have been drawn by one of those cartoon animators as a side gig. It has a pro feeling to it. The cat on the fence with the big orange sun setting – a glowing sunset behind the fence we realize when we really look. We get a peek at a yellow field and a house behind. It is as if the world is very beautiful glowing yellow and civilized just on the other side of the fence from where these three cats gather.

The two males on the fence seem to be tuning up for a night of caterwauling, while the girl cat belongs to someone who has place a bow around her neck. I guess she matriculates through both worlds. There is a garbage can which has overflowed – I guess that can be investigated and raided later if the boys need a snack.

*Blackie and Cookie on the bed recently. They have only just reconciled with each other upon our return to the NYC apartment.*

Not surprisingly it has me in mind of what we called alley cats when I was a kid and which occurs to me right now to be a term you don’t really hear any longer. (Do we no longer have alleys? Or are cats no longer their denizens?) Instead we talk about strays and feral cats – terms people seem to use interchangeably which arguably are not. Domestic cats that have been abandoned are now strays but they are not feral.

I have written about our first stray found when I was a small child, Zipper. (I wrote about him and other tabbies I have known in a post here. Zipper’s interest in our tropical fish can be found here.) He was a classic alley cat, a tabby with a broken tail where the tip was always at an angle. Mom rescued him outside the laundry one day (this was before we had our own washer and dryer – yes, we’re talking quite a long time ago) where some boys were abusing him.

Zipper was super scrappy though and grew into a beautiful cat. I suspect in retrospect that our rather prim but gentle domestic cat Snoopy was probably utterly shocked by him. He kept his streetwise wits about him and became a ringleader of the neighborhood cats of the time. (Our cats were of the indoor/outdoor variety at the time.) Zips would round up his buddies and make raids on an eel box kept for bait up the street. What pussycat parties those appeared to be! Puking for days after and a need to hose down the garage. These two on the card would have happily attended and then gotten into a few fights.

*Mr. Miltie, our old, old timer.* *A long ago rescue from Newark.*

Spending time outside our cats would get into scraps and occasionally come home with a gaping wound which would eventually abscess and require a trip to the vet. Once I remember my mother couldn’t find a cat carrier and stuffed Zipper into a picnic basket which he promptly chewed right through – head sticking out and therefore somewhat stuck, on our the way there.

All of this was brought back to me by a snippet on Instagram this morning about a British woman and her son finding a cat in the backyard and enticing him inside over a period of a couple of years. Reminds me of our Hobo in New Jersey who we never were able to get inside and who disappeared last year. They call him Boysie, another tabby, and it was a bad wound that finally made them urge him inside and to the vet.

*Gus, on the bed. He came to the backdoor in NJ one winter. He can’t decide if he wants to be petted all the time or is afraid to at all.*

Now we have dedicated people doing TNR (trap, neuter and release) of cat colonies which have mercifully cut down their numbers. Strays with docked ears show this has been done and our Stormy bears that evidence. Here in Manhattan strays are much less common than they once were even in my lifetime. Still, Stormy and Gus both came to the backyard at Mom’s and the other three were otherwise rescued, Beau and Miltie from Newark and Peaches from a basement in Long Branch. We know that shelters are full to overflowing and I am told that in the spring a never ending parade of kittens were dropped at our doors at work despite our not even being a shelter.

Recently an older friend lost her sister unexpectedly and the sister had just adopted a stray. I was very tempted to invite her to join the tribe although eight might truly be the tipping of that scale.

Peaches. I actually touched her for the first time recently. She was asleep on a chair and did not appreciate it. Peaches will generally only let me get within a foot or two of her. Still, she seems very happy. Stretches and rolls around. Just a no-touch kinda girl.

I think of our cat companions and how very special they are. Cookie is asleep atop a Chewy box surveying her kingdom as I write and Blackie is wondering if he looks longingly enough I will give him a Churu treat. (I am the soft touch for these and secretly am always trying to put a bit more weight on Blackie. He is a willing participant.) It makes me sad to think of those kitties that could have happy lives in homes but don’t get the chance. Here’s to finding them all their very best homes.

Home again, home again

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: While New Jersey is also technically home, our many more months a year are spent in our tiny Manhattan apartment. Despite thinking, every time, that we are bringing less back than we brought there, we will spend today rather literally stuffing ourselves back into this space and place. Among other things (think books) we arrive laden with corn, tomatoes and herbs from the Garden State – the latter two from our garden.

*Kim’s pile of pages, still covered in plastic against the possibility of ceiling leaks.*

As far as I can tell, everyone who visits us here finds our ability to live in this one room (which I continue to stuff things into and Kim contributes artistic additions to daily, not to mention his book habit and mine) rather stunning. Mostly when you are doing it you forget about it. Having been away for five weeks I myself am marveling at how I produce meals in our miniscule kitchen – with cats and Kim in there with me! (We remodeled that kitchen back in the fall of ’19, just months before the pandemic. Find that post here.) Um, how have I prepared meals here?

*Our kitchen post renovation – believe me, there’s lots more in it right now!*

Kim is back at his beloved New York work table which is more generously proportioned than his one in NJ and has all his stuff – his full pile of lay outs and an always slowly growing pile of finished pages. Only a working kit of stuff goes to NJ in a box each time. Having said that I think he will miss the lovely open window he worked by. I have worked at that desk and on a good day you can see hummingbirds in the Rose of Sharon tree which they seem to adore.

Cookie (shown above) and Blackie are thrown back together and I report that they are finding the one room small as well. Blackie, on the defensive the whole time he’s in New Jersey, gets unfortunately aggressive with Cookie once we are back. The fighting has commenced and there is much hissing. Kim is mostly doing the mediating. Cookie has resumed a perch atop of the couch and, although Blackie slept on the bed, he is currently sleeping off the whole experience under it. (Do they think they have awoken from a long dream when they find themselves back here? Or have they assimilated that they now occasionally travel back and forth? I suspect they’d have a lot to say given the opportunity. Perhaps we are just as glad they cannot talk!)

Several of the Rosa Mulholland books were left in Jersey after Kim read them, however two more arrived here in the meantime. (For my Rosa Mulholland posts and more about what I am reading you can go here and here.) Much of my reading is electronic these days but she has been hard to find and I keep purchasing the pretty volumes when I can. In addition, a few other volumes crept in via the antiques annex in Red Bank. (As for the comic book store I believe a couple of those volumes Kim purchased made it to New York as he had not read them yet.)

We are currently about half unpacked and I have a pile of clothes that need to either be cleaned or hung up. I wish I could move these summer dresses to our storage locker but the weather has turned hot again and I will regret it if I do I am afraid.

*I only see one cat but our bivouac* *process in August.*

For all of those things I do have my 25 minute walk to and from work coming up this week, rather than my long train ride from NJ. (Kim is going to try to do some of these mornings with me to keep up our walking together habit acquired on vacation. We’ll see if I can keep him away from his drawing table for a bit each morning for that.) The calendar is filling up with fall dates and New York is already in full fall swing, waiting for us to hop into the fray.

I have been back at the office since last week and again and again colleagues say that it is like a switch has been flipped and we are off to the races. We have a Paws & Pints gathering of owners and dogs this Wednesday at a dog friendly bar near home. It is followed by a new event for young supporters called Woof & Wine at the end of the month – that to support our fund which cares for seeing eye dogs for free. A supply of dogs and puppies from a seeing eye foundation will be the highlight, along with cocktails, food and a silent auction. And that is just September!

We are having one of our first truly rainy days in weeks so I have no excuse but to face the music and get the apartment in some sort of shape. Wish me luck and hopefully onto further acquisitions next week.

Dahlia Days and Jersey Delights

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: These are not only the dog days of summer but International Dog Day as I sit down to start this. No dogs here in the House of Seven Cats and I think the Jersey Five find the addition of the two New Yorkers two too many more let alone pups.

Blackie has wiled most of his days away in our bedroom when not hunting up Cookie (who resides in Kim’s studio upstairs) and eating her food. He’s also gotten into numerous tussles with Beau, the head of cats here and fluffed himself up into a righteously puffy Halloween-esque fellow. I am trying to resolve the problem with an extra can of food in the late afternoon. It might be working.

*The view from the back deck one glorious afternoon.*

I am on the back deck as I write, where I have spent many happy hours this vacation. Stormy, the gray tabby who seems to be perpetually surprised and terrified by the world, is at the back door looking out – hoping against hope that a fat fly will land on the screen door for her to chase.

Labor Day comes early this year but having said that the light in the afternoon already has a fall look and I have seen large v’s of birds starting to make their trek south. The evenings are chilly enough to warrant a jacket and I am starting to eye the little used fire pit. However, the earlier part of the day in full sun can be roiling hot so we are not there yet.

With heavy spring rain and subsequent dry spells the dahlias are slow to bloom this year but their show now that it has started is worthy. A few new entries are small in bloom stature but bursting with bright colors, red and white and an orange red and yellow. My beloved hummingbirds come to feast on them and they go from one to another and back to a favorite – like a bird buffet. ( Does anyone know what I mean when I say hummingbirds, hanging in the air, look like they are somehow stopping time?)

I can almost always find bees tucked in the centers of the dahlias, drowsily, drunkenly and dizzily covered in pollen. The strawberry plants are also enjoyed by the hummingbirds and are overflowing with flowers right now. I think I’ve mentioned before that they oddly produce only the tiniest, almost doll sized fruit – delicious but bizarrely small.

The tomato plants promise produce, hanging green on the vine but ripening SO slowly. Another producing tiny tasty yellow cherry tomatoes is doing a great business – unusually small but tasty bits being the order of the day here I guess. We pop small handfuls in our mouth, still warm from the sun. The jalapeno peppers are bountiful (and perversely huge) and of course are the hardest to use up quickly without killing my diners with devilishly spicy treats.

This year has felt like a real vacation. Kim and I have taken long daily walks to the neighboring towns, shopped in the antique stores and scored some items. We brought piles of books from New York (and admittedly added to them) and we have worked our way through almost all of them. Kim has been catching up on some of my Rosa Mulholland recommendations including one I brought with me that arrived shortly before our departure. In addition he has made occasional trips to the comic book store in Red Bank (Jay and Silent Bob’s Secret Stash of Kevin Smith fame) where he has amassed books reproducing the Superman saga.

*From my favorite perch at the comic book store, reading work email while Kim looks.*

Kim and I both worked for the first two weeks here after arriving in early August and we’ll put in a few days from here after Labor Day. Last week I wrote about our pending visit with Bill which kicked off our vacation and below are some photos memorializing his visit. (Bill, if you’re reading this, we found both the Reed Crandall book AND the Pinocchio book after you left! They were on an overlooked shelf together.)

Tonight is our first visit this year to the local Fireman’s Fair. (I wrote about it last summer in a post here.) Although I have reserved the right to go again when another friend visits from Manhattan this weekend.

I recently told Kim if he wants to sound like a native New Jersey-er he weigh in on the state of the summer’s corn and tomatoes – peaches for the bonus round. We take these things very seriously and the quality of Garden State produce is of great local importance. This year corn is small but good corn can be found with some work – it is perhaps just late as it has improved as the month has gone on. The tomatoes are somewhat underwhelming unless you hit one of the El Dorados of good ones (or can convince the ones on your deck to ripen) and eat them quickly before they go from ripe to bad. All but one purchase of peaches failed the test – however last night had some that had been purchased at the peach of ripeness before going bad, ate them with ice cream and felt like we really hit it at last.

In this spirit I began to make tomato pie. After looking at numerous recipes I settled on a simple one which I share below. The tomatoes need to be bled of water briefly before starting and I used a pre-made crust. (For all my apparent cooking talents there’s something about pie crust which I have never gotten into the rhythm of properly.)

Fifteen minutes to throw together and this is in the oven cooking away for 45 minutes or more and it is without question best if consumed immediately – it is inferior when reheated. My only other word of advice is that you should pack it as full of tomato layers as possible because they shrink in the cooking and my first effort looked a bit woebegone as a result. Dan and Cathy Theodore were the first to try my pie and liked it enough to ask for the recipe, but more about their visit and the gift they brought in another post.

Recipe:

1 pie crust
1/2 red onion, sliced thinly into rounds
1/4 cup mayonnaise
6 ounces shredded mozzarella cheese
3-4 ripe tomatoes, sliced about 1/4-1/2 inch thin
4 tablespoons fresh basil, sliced into ribbons (chiffonade)
salt and pepper to taste

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 400F.
Line a 9″ tart pan with prepared pie dough. Poke a few holes in the dough with a fork, then cover with parchment paper and pie weights or dried beans. Bake for 15 minutes, until crust is starting to turn golden.
While the crust bakes, slice the tomatoes on several sheets of paper towels and sprinkle with salt. Flip and salt the other side as well. Let the tomatoes sit for 10 minutes, then blot off moisture with dry towels.
Mix together the mayonnaise and the shredded cheese, and spread the mixture in the parbaked pie crust. Sprinkle 2-3 tablespoons of the basil on top.
Top with one layer of the sliced tomatoes, the onions, followed by a second layer of tomatoes. Add a third layer if space permits. Sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper. (If like me you are worried that the tomatoes are salty from the bleeding the wiping them down wipes off most of the salt.)
Bake for 30 minutes, until crust is golden and some juices along the edge of the pie crust are bubbling. Remove from the oven and set aside for 20 minutes to cool before slicing. Tip with the remaining basil and serve warm or room temperature.

Note: Tomato pie is best served on the day it is made, but leftovers can be store in the refrigerator and reheated in the oven at 350 degrees for 12-20 minutes.

PS – At top, Beauregard, top cat of the Jersey Five, in a pout before we left today!