Tough

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Writing from our New Jersey outpost today – more about that maybe tomorrow. However, I am fresh off a Saturday morning of cat chores – multiplied of course by the number of cats and also with my commute less gets done during the week. There is a day of gardening ahead too – the first of the dahlias is blooming and I have even cut a few for enjoying here in the kitchen.

I tucked a few cards in my computer bag for posts, although there are also a few items that have come with us to live here which I hope to feature in the coming weeks as they get unpacked and are fully available for consideration.

Beau Butler, acting senior cat.

Today, this little tidbit however, purchased at the most recent card sale. I chose it as I am now in a bevy of kitties here in the House of Seven Cats and I am reminded of their pecking order. Although Milty is the oldest of cats here (and male) he is so old that Beauregard, the five or six year old all black fellow, is really top cat for all intents and purposes these days. Beau (and Milty) are fed first among the Jersey kits. (Cookie and Blackie, aka the New York cats, are fed in separate rooms to keep the peace.) Gus, Peaches and Stormy wait to eat after. The older boys also get their pick of the choice sleeping spots. Alas, the feline world is a sexist one.

Milty, true elder statesman senior cat.

In this card we have a fellow who is indeed a tough guy after a fashion. He sports a pistol, knife and has a cig hanging out of his mouth. (Arguably though he has a fluffy kitty tummy being shown!) The newsboy cap pulled over one eye, a kerchief knotted around his neck, here is something of a Frenchmen about him, an apache. His Wanted poster is on the wall behind him, sporting the same, striped, vest and presumably a list of his sins below. His hands (um paws) are on his hips. He is looking to the left of the viewer at something, above him Tough Baby! is inscribed.

Peaches, meanest cat ever, just shown here for the heck of it.

If I was going to draw comparisons to my New Jersey cats this chap would be Milty not Beau who for all his top cat status isn’t really a tough guy – just the largest kitty here. Milty, even in his dotage, is more like this swaggering fellow.

Faded back of card.

This card was mailed, although the message and address are quite faded. By happy coincidence it is postmarked July 30, 1940 from Margate, Kent. So as of yesterday, it was mailed exactly 86 years ago. As best I can read the message on the back, in faded blue writing it says, Dear Andrew and Timothy, We are having…time here and the weather is lovely. How are you getting on Andrew with your work, not working…hard I hope. How is Timothy, I’m sure…love the sea. Love from Heidi & Madelaine. It is addressed to, Master A. Marr, ‘Kilroney’ Swan Lane, Edwin Bridge, Kent. The card is British published.

So that is your quick Pictorama post for today. I’m off to do household and cat chores and find my way to the garden, weather permitting.

Fish Daily

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: A quick post as we head to the Jersey shore later this morning. I purchased this from a vendor who had it in a pile of Monmouth County postcards and I purchased a few. It was mailed to and from locally, so it seems like a fair assumption although there is nothing identifying it really on the front. It has the right feel though – pure Jersey shore. Sadly this card is damaged, folded along the bottom but that did not stop me from paying up a bit for it.

A hand-painted sign advertises Sale and Retail Fish-Daily and we have this group piled together in various stages of beach wear and summer dress – and undress.The fellow in the middle appears to have googles on (I’m thinking driving not swimming) with his swimsuit. He has women, one in a dress and the other possibly in a swimsuit, on the other side. On the far ends, a woman in a pretty flowered dress and hat and on the other side it is hard to see the fellow with the white hat and what I assume is a swim suit.

The back row is four people, a combination of men (hat and even bowtie on one and collared shirts on the others) and all the way in the front a kid in a sort of sailor shirt, looking annoying. I can’t figure out what that little wooden structure is – it looks like the cabin of a boat which maybe it could be if they are actually on a pier.

The big news is a really careful look reveals that they are actually all perched on and around an absolutely enormous fish! It took a long time looking at this card before I realized that there is a huge fish tail hanging out the bottom. The kid in the sailor shirt is holding out a fin and below the man in the white hat is the gaping mouth.

Back of the card. No room wherever they were staying!

A tiny bit of the ocean can be seen in the upper right, a wooden shack near that and two cars help date the period of the picture. However, this card was mailed and therefore we have a postal cancellation. This card was mailed from Farmingdale, NJ on August 28 1930 at 5 PM. It was mailed to, Harold & Floyd Woolly, Box #1, Toms River, N.J. It says, We set up our own camp. The didn’t have room to hold us all so they scoured the country and got us cots & tents and gave us the dryest, finest place of all under the Elms. I have a little private tent of my own up here. Adolph. No mention of the big fish!

This photo scratches at the back of my brain for looking like family photos from the same period and place. I think it is going up on a wall in the house this summer, returning more or less to its place of origin for a few more decades of Jersey summers to come. More next week from the other side!

Impish?

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: As we ease our way out of the month of July this summer, I thought I’d share this card made in July of 1918 – as noted and underlined in the white handwriting (probably) of the photographer when printing in the lower left.

At first I thought these were a dozen devils, but not quite. These kids are each in pointed cap hood but (most) grasp lanterns and not pitchforks. Just as I thought Imps! I saw it written in white next to the date in the lower left as above. Some of the kids look pretty happy about the situation and others less so. I’m going to assume that it was less hot and humid there than it would have been here which would have made them all quite miserable.

They are posed on a small, covered riser or stage and in their midst, behind the child standing out in front, is some sort of stuffed dummy, clad in a hat and scarf – a bit overdressed for the time of the year. they are posed in front of these open French doors and in front of a brick facade with some climbing plants on either side (ivy on one?) of the doors. I wonder what kind of presentation they were preparing for or just completed.

I believe that this is not an Owers photo but shows us Southsea, clearly a shore resort town.

In the lower right corner, fairly hard to read in drop out white, it says Owers Southsea. Thanks to the always amazing internet, I found that Oscar Owers was a Southsea (England) photographer of photo postcards at the dawn of the 20th century. He did local scenes, sporting events, weddings and the like and evidently things like whatever was being gotten up to in this image. He’s captured this nicely in how they are grouped and their variety of expressions and positions. This postcard was never mailed and I think we can assume that it was either one of a kind or a limited few printed for those who hired him.

I found this one is by Owers and I guess was the sort of meat and potatoes of his local work.

I am keeping things a bit brief today – we are packing up for our New Jersey bivouac tomorrow. Cats have been put on notice with their carriers out and there is a flurry of art supplies and books being packed by Kim and a fridge that needs to be emptied and other household bits for me. Wish me luck and more in the morning before we depart!

In the Yard with Cats

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I am heading to New Jersey tomorrow for a few days and this card has me in a pleasant mind of backyard time I hope to enjoy. My roses are in bloom and the gorgeous purple-blue hydrangea, both front yard and back, is starting its ascension into its first flowers of the season. The herbs are well on their way and I understand my grapes have finally come back with a will. Strawberries have already made an appearance and the dahlias are shooting up en force!

I will, of course, be greeted to varying degrees by the resident cats there. Beauregard will claim as much lap time as possible while Milty and Gus will shove in where they can. Stormy and Peaches, my girl cats, are my scaredy cats and although they may (or may not – thinking of you Peaches!) be glad to see me.

The grapevine has returned with a vengeance I am glad to see. All the garden photos are via my friend Winsome.

If you pay attention to all things cats on the internet, you know that catios are all the rage and you can purchase them pre-made (think screened tent for your cats) and less expensive, or you can build a more elaborate version. Ideally the cats have free passage from house to safe outdoor harbor in the catio, but there are an increasing number where the expectation is that you will plop them in and take them back out yourself. Of course, I have considered these but I am not carrying my precious pusses outside to put them in a flimsy screened enclosure. No, I would have to be one of those folks who built something solid and give them cat door access to it.

Although I grew up with cats that roamed free in the yard and divided their time in and out of the house as a matter of course, this is no longer the way in the area where I grew up and where we now have a house. At some point, keeping your cat inside, or with a collar for brief outside turns, became the way of things. Cats are chipped now in case they are lost, although something about putting that in her cats always made my mother nervous. Although all these cats came from living on the streets, none of them has set a paw outside since.

The aforementioned Peaches.

There is something wonderful however about my childhood memories of cats wandering in and out, more or less at will, without thinking about it. They enjoyed it so much and all the better if we were outside with them. As I kid I would sit outside and play with them for hours. I actually haven’t thought about it for years.

Like this photo we might have had a light indoor chair outside, although it would likely be alongside a bunch of lawn chairs. (My father eventually bought heavy outdoor chairs and tables at garage sales, but I was older by then.) If we were outside at least a few of the cats and the dog would be out with us although, maybe someone was sleepy inside too. There were no particular rules. We just never thought about it. Everyone pretty much came in at night unless for some reason they had a mysterious kitty rendezvous and were off on a toot for the evening. Noted but not a cause for alarm.

The dahlias are showing early promise.

Looking at these folks and their cats in their backyard in the dabbled sunlight it makes me think about it. The women are in their long dresses of the day but summer versions and the man, seated behind them, is in a suit with a tie. (One could say he is sort of not quite fully participating.) Those summer cottons which while beautiful must have required difficult laundry and endless patient ironing. Hard to see but the woman in white is leaning on a bit of a chicken wire enclosure behind her. When we look closely there are beds of plants, something leafy and green climbing up an arbor to the viewers left and behind them.

It was clearly a bit of an occasion. Girl kitty (my assumption) is wearing a big bow and looks a tad unhappy about it although not in full on revolt. She perches in a timid way on the chair with a cushion. She is a light-colored tabby-ish kitty, orange most likely? The other looks like a tom and he is in a loving if tightly gripped hold for the photo. Look at the stripes on his legs! Those black bands! Both have white faces and front paws. Handsome fellow!

Backyard is blooming!

The yard has a high fence around it as far as we can see, although technically not one that would keep an interested (let alone determined) cat in or out. My backyard is also fenced, but given small spaces as entry points near the ground I have found all sorts of animals back there including a fox who got in and admittedly didn’t seem to know how to get out. (I opened the gate and invited him to take his time leaving.) Cats do come by occasionally – that is how Stormy and Gus came to live with mom. Some of you might remember the stray tom I christened Hobo who we fed on and off for several years.

Hobo back in 2023.

This photo was never sent and nothing was written on the back. On the back there is a very faded company logo for Central Studio, and an address, 103 College Street, Burlington, VT. It is easy to imagine that this was taken in Vermont, a singular photo postcard and the cats were clearly rallied for the photo opp. It is a wonderfully distilled moment from a long ago summer.

Meanwhile, on my way to the Jersey shore so a Jersey summer specific card to come tomorrow!

Scratch That

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: At the heart of my collecting are odd bit postcards and photos that just appeal to me and today it is one. It has been a little while since I have featured a real one-of-a-kind photo postcard that was made of someone’s pet – my indulgences at the postcard show have turned up more illustrated cards and professional photo postcards. However, in some ways these one-offs epitomize something about why I collect cat photos.

Photos are usually tributes to the puss in question, many mice caught, had kittens and the like, today’s is a different sort of good kitty notice. It took me a bit to realize that this missive declares that this Miss Cat (I believe kitty to be a girl), sweet little thing we see in the sun here, has not scratched our sender.

Beauregard is a very thoughtful cat and was always extra careful around mom.

Now, I am the first to say when you live with a kitten, you generally walking around like the bleeding wounded on some horror film set, arms and hands particularly mangled, until you convince them that there are things for scratching (and biting for that matter) and slowly it ceases.

It must be said that an odd flaw in my beloved Blackie is he never learned to use a scratching post or box. His sister Cookie is happy to tear furiously into one, as are the Jersey Five. I have set scratching boxes up in strategic places and they are used not only for scratching but Peaches in particular likes to sleep on them, as if on a little cardboard throne, as well as tear them to bits.

Mr. Blackie without a care in the world, showing his tummy recently.

As a result, we occasionally get a negligent scratch from Blackie’s nails, although he hasn’t actively scratched either of us since kittenhood. I used to worry about those kinds of unconscious scratches with my mom and her cats. At the end of her life her skin was very thin and as a diabetic, scratches could be a problem. However, her cat favorite lap cat Beau always seemed to be extra careful and we rarely if ever had a problem. In an adult cat clearly scratching is a clearly a sign of unhappiness – Back off buddy! You’ve crossed a line.

The cat in the photo reminds me of Peaches. She’s a terror and to my knowledge no one has actually ever touched her. She will get within two feet of me when I am putting out food and that’s it.

Our kitty here has been captured in a benign mood, although something has caught her attention out the window. She appears to be white with some stripe-y patches on the bottom half of her and some of the same color up around her head and ears. She’s not a kitten but does appear to be a fairly young cat. We see just the tip of her curled tail, mirrored by her shadow on this small table – she is barely staying still enough for this photo to be taken. She’s a sprightly cute little thing – clearly a scratcher though!

There is a cannister, such as would hold something like flour, behind her. (Dollars to donuts that got knocked over eventually if this was her favorite viewing table.) Puss is a little sassy, you can tell that from this pic. All this is captured in this circle printed at the top of the card.

Cookie likes to curl up under my desk. This was her during a zoom call last week.

Under it, the fellow in question has written, “Hasn’t scratched yrs” Yours Samuel Jackson. It was mailed from Schenectady on June 11 at 11:30 (maybe 12:30, hard to see), 1906. It is addressed (to the best of my decoding ability) to Miss Emma Crisppen, Coxsackie, N.Y. It arrived in Coxsackie at 4:00 PM of the same day. A miracle by today’s standards we cannot imagine. (Not that they could imagine sending an email or this blog post in all fairness.)

So there we have it, our slice of time out of 1906, very close to exactly 120 years ago today.

Small Felix Treat

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Today’s card, like yesterday’s, was a recent eBay buy. Although this is a reasonably cute little nipper, clad in his silk best and ruffles, it is his rare Felix toy that I have my eye on here. Junior has a hold on that toy which I assume it is a prop for the photo. It was taken in a photo studio (look at the background), and this grand toy is just a pleasant distraction for the photo. I always wonder about the screaming and fighting when they then try to disengage the child from the toy. Photographers needed to be made of stern stuff – or resign themselves to a well-stocked toy cupboard.

Back in May of ’22 I purchased this toy and posted about it. (That post can be found here.) I stated that I paid a fortune for him on eBay and I believe that knowing me and this toy which seems to be very rare. I did not find another online to share. I show my rather ratty, hard won and much beloved version here below. I will note that he and his post did not show up on my search which may mean maybe I just didn’t search as well as I should have. In part I forgot that he is a friction walker, not a wind-up. (Sadly, mine does not work.) Somewhere I seem to have gotten the information that he is German made. I assume the ball moved up and down as he walked! Mighty fine.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Like most of these photo postcards that are portraits this one was never mailed. There are no notations on the back. The best way to date this photo is of course the outfit on the child and the Felix which I would say places this in the mid-1920’s. (I can’t quite determine if his shoes are button or early lace-ups.) The postcard is in pretty pristine shape for its age (kicking around for 100 years) and my guess is it may have been framed or was placed in an album without glue or tape.

Although this toy has a simple mechanism as a friction walker, the silk outfit Felix sports and even his head which looks a bit breakable, must have meant that these just didn’t survive hard play and the very nature of how you played with it (grasping it and wearing down the suit, lots of falling over as you experimented with different inclines to make it walk) probably meant heavy wear and tear.

Postscript: Kim and I are off shortly for day two at the L’Alliance Comics Fest. I am hoping the rain will clear as promised and we can get some walking in for Kim (who is recovering quickly but doesn’t always get his walking practice in as he’d rather be working on his next book!), who hopes to progress to a cane in the next week or so. We saw Charles Burns and Peter Cooper yesterday. Catch up with the photos on Instagram or come and see us at lunchtime today.

Family Pics

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: A short post today and an unusual one as I don’t think I very often feature photos of my own childhood. However these two have been hovering on my desk for a bit and I have decided to share them. Admittedly it is a bit indulgent; they are largely photos only a family member could love, and not necessarily aesthetically special.

The black and white photo is my mom and dad and sister Loren. I am the babe in arms and according to the date on this, November 1964, I am 9 months old. It was taken in front of my maternal grandmother’s home, with the camera facing away from the house. (I wrote a long early post about my grandmother’s house and it is here.) My apologies to my brother Edward but these were take several years before he was born.

It is a bit rare really to have all of us in a photo as my father, the camera man, usually took the photo. He is wearing a trench coat (I still have one of his Burberry trench coats – they were a constand over the years like his very long Eddie Bauer down coats in the winter.) Dad is not wearing a hat which is very unusual. It would have been a wool cap.

Mom seems to be wearing a long trench coat as well and this was unusual – Dad must have bought it for her. I can’t really see her hair in this but it would have been some kind of longish at that time. Loren is two here, her life long curly hair already in evidence – she’d fight that through her teen years but I, of the straight hair, always liked it. I like this little double breasted plaid coat she is sporting.

Mom holds a chubby me in a fluffy top and be-pom pommed hat. I like this long fall shadow outlining use to the left. No idea who took this picture but I would make a guess it may have been my mother’s brother and this is probably Thanksgiving. I do not believe that wildly finned, white car behind us is ours. I think we may have been sporting a woody station wagon in the day – my family never went in for sporty cars.

My sister Loren on the left and me in a profusion of posies on the right. I don’t think these dresses inhibited some wild running around as soon as a few minutes after this – Loren already looks like she is leaping off!

The other photo (they were sort of stuffed together in a bit of plastic when I found them) is early color and is Easter Sunday 1966, two years later. My sister, in the pink, and I are clad in unlikely dresses for the holiday. I suspect they were gifts from my grandmother – I almost wonder if she made them but probably not. Our normal attire ran to the indestructible but were were clearly meant to be memorialized on this occasion as properly dressed little girls.

We would have had an Easter egg hunt either out in the yard or, if the weather didn’t cooperate, in the house. The ones in the yard, which I believe were courtesy of my uncle, are glorious in my memory. My (Jewish) father always had Easter baskets for us (usually Russell Stover ones) which were also wonderful. (I can remember a fascination with a soft, lifelike, tiny toy chick someone gave me one year and I was very sad when it got lost in the hustle and bustle of things.)

Loren is looking a bit angelic here although I knew her well enough to say she was probably like she was shot out of a canon two minutes later – and hadn’t even started on a sugar high. These dresses are really wearing us! The fabric comes back as unforgiving even now as I look at it. Oh the bows and flowers! I feel like my hair is a bit of a babu mullet here.

We are seated on a couch that lives in memory as an itchy green sort of flocked fabric. That small bit of flowered wallpaper brings back memories of my grandmother’s living room – and the blinds on the windows behind us were often closed, probably so the furniture wouldn’t fade. It was therefore usually a somewhat dark but not unpleasant room which I spent many hours happily in. A television ultimately found its way into that room in a giant wooden console that included a very fancy radio and record player.

The family would have headed into the kitchen where we would sit around an expanded table (or if the guest list was really big it would have reached through the living room) and as it was Easter there would have been a wonderful cakey homemade bread, fried dough (these were Italians doing this cooking!), ham, sausage and depending maybe my grandmother’s rather incredible meatballs. (I didn’t become a vegetarian for many years yet to come. I have attempted to make a fakemeat version of her meatballs!)

At that time Loren and I were the very first grandchildren of our generation – it would proliferate with the addition of my brother and several cousins over time. Sadly now several of those, including my sister, died very young and are already no longer with us. However, here we are, at the beginning of it all – a twinkle in everyone’s eye for the spring holiday.

Expecting Snow

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Here in New York we are anticipating snow on and off over the next few days. I head back to New Jersey tomorrow and vaguely see a snow shovel in my future. I don’t think we believe it will be especially heavy so my shoveling will, hopefully, remain nominal.

I do think if shoveling becomes a regular part of my future I need to consider my tools a bit better. I have an extremely standard issue snow shovel at the house. Recently I was reading an article in the New York Times Wirecutter section where they recommended the one below and am considering it. (If you want to purchase it, you too can here. It awaits in my Amazon queue for now.)

The possible future of my snow shoveling life.

Seems like a nominal investment and I may try it – Wirecutter rarely if ever steers me wrong. Notably to date I have a space heater (two really, I bought a second) in New Jersey that I love. It kept Kim nice and toasty in our drafty upstairs over the holidays and I keep one in the kitchen for cold mornings. Also after some bad spills and cups that barely keep things warm, I invested in a thermos they recommended which carries my to-the-office cup of coffee daily. It is splendid! It was expensive as these things go but has an excellent lock top and the coffee stays so piping hot that I pour it into a mug to drink it. (If this is of interest you can purchase it on Amazon here. At $35 it is more than the snow shovel!)

Real admiration function of this thermos.

Among the other things Wirecutter has contributed to our lives are: our couch, a magnetic shelf for the side of my fridge, a similar holder for knives and an external battery for my phone. I’m not sure they have ever given me a bum steer. Therefore, a $30 investment of a new ergonomic snow shovel may well be in my future. Meanwhile there was so much snow in our area over the holidays that all the stores were sold out of pet-safe salt substitute for the walk and driveway. I ordered a bucket of it from Amazon finally; it arrived after we left but should be waiting for me.

This is my roundabout way of getting to this nice little photo which came to me as a holiday card from my friend at that excellent antique store down in Dallas, Texas I purchase from, Sandi Outland at Curiosities (aka @curiositiesantique). I’m sure if I ever make it to Dallas I will spend several happy hours searching their shelves and cases, but Sandi does a good job of keeping me abreast of what I might like. (Posts of purchase from Curiosities can be found here and most recently here for starters, but there are many.) I also fantasize that one of these days we’ll meet up for an antique shopping fest at something like Brimfield. I think we’d have a rather superb time. Huge shoutout to her for sending us this photo card this season!

Sandi picked this photo and made the card, adding the tiniest bit of glitter to it – it may not even be visible in the picture I have taken. It does give it just a bit of sparkle which Kim and I liked. Sandi is a collector of grumpy snowman pics – she sent props for this one below I wrote about recently. I suspect that may have been in mind when she chose this one for us.

This picture shows a less than glorious snow fall on the ground, the kind I feel like I largely grew up with. The true, deep, sledding, snowman building snows were few and memorable really. (When I go to New Jersey tomorrow I will look for some snow photos from my childhood – they are quite disorganized there however I am afraid. I know of one where our German Shepard is catching a snowball in her mouth though.) More often you had about two or three inches like this, enough for a few meagre snowballs (as evidenced by this little boy and girl who each hold one), but not much more – enough to sock your sibling once, twice at most. Probably not enough for a snow day from school, definitely not enough for a decent size snowman. Still, as an adult it brings back a sort of visceral memory from childhood.

The big tree and the bare earth create a good composition for this photo. The little boy draws us all the way to the front while the barren trees not quite in focus behind the girl create a sense of depth, little girl front and center in the middle ground. Kids clothes being what they are I’m unsure of when it might have been taken. Really it could be any time from the 40’s into the 50’s would be my guess.

As I type, snow has started to fall here as predicted. I think it may turn to rain before turning back to snow, but we’ll see where temperatures are as the day progresses. Kim and I are scheduled for a stroll down to Orwasher’s for our first weekly purchase of bread since we returned to Manhattan. It isn’t a hard snow, and at most I think we’ll end up with that 2-3 inches on the ground this weekend. I’ll manage with the old shovel just fine.

Deitch Studio: Christmas 2025

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Arguably the most popular day on the Pictorama calendar – the holiday card reveal – and here we are again! For the third year now, with Kim’s blessing, I have attempted all seven cats – the Jersey Five and the New York cats combined as the illustration. As has become our pattern, I draw it and he then redraws, traces and inks it. The cats have stayed true to my drawing as has the design. Us in the sleigh is more him and the moon has become a good old Deitchian moon. I think it is a fair melding hybrid of our styles.

Kim noted that the cats look a bit like balloons here – of the Thanksgiving parade kind. Some more than others – Stormy hovering over Christmas is the most balloon like. (She is a pretty dreamy kitty. One of the last of the strays mom acquired.) Evidently a slow moving sleigh now that I reflect on it.

For the record and the curious, the top row from left to right are Blackie, Milty, Gus, Cookie and bottom row, Beau, Peaches and Stormy. Milty is the oldest and Peaches and Stormy roughly tie for youngest and last into the house. Cookie and Blackie are the only ones from the same litter (our New York kits) and Blackie and Beau share their all black cat-ness.

Front door at Thanksgiving.

As I do the card reveal this year I need to apologize a bit – it seems I have lost my address book which I have had since college. Although many addresses have migrated to my electronic book, many of the oldest ones have not and among those I don’t necessarily have emails or numbers to text either. Someone pointed out that the universe was trying to tell me something.

I didn’t see it at first but someone pointed out that Kim has candy cane horns – I must ask him if it was on purpose or if he was having subliminal Grampus urges. Now I don’t know how I missed it.

If you are new to the card reveal, this joint card project goes back to the first year Kim and I started dating (predating Pictorama by decades) and has developed over time. Some earlier examples can be found here, here and here.

As you read this on Sunday morning we will (hopefully) be packed up and on our way to New Jersey with Cookie and Blackie in tow. We spent today (Saturday) organizing and filling boxes and suitcases so the cats are suspicious – sleeping on the bed with one eye slightly open I’d say.

When we get to the house I am anxious to see if my holiday swags of evergreens have lasted on the front railings. I will take out my few holiday decorations – oversized colored lights will go in the fireplace, an elderly Santa made of lead skiing and a few other choice bits that will live on the mantle – one of the few cat free spaces in the house. (That of course is always subject to change if a cat is enterprising enough!)

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.
Hard to read beyond Mr. and Mrs. Will Claff. How on earth did this get delivered I wonder.

I thought I would bookend this post with another card I bought this fall. Sent on December 23, 1914. It was sent from Brockport, NY but the address is hard to read as is the message. Of course it was the idea of the nifty cat pull toy on the front that did it for me, bow and all. I like the little poem too which says, I send this kissy kat because I cannot go like Santa Claus, to give my Christmas love to you, or kiss you – as I’d like to do. So a Merry Christmas to you all – a few New Year’s cards tucked away next.

Family

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I feel like I used to find more photos like this one for the Pictorama archive. I discovered this on eBay. Unfortunately it is quite faded, I have even assisted it a bit here. Still, this family with their mostly matching haircuts and each girl sporting a member of a kitten family was too good resist.

This photo postcard was never mailed and the clothes on the kids are sort of timeless, but I would guess maybe the 1920’s or 30’s. They are posed by the “side of the house” from what I can figure. I would say spring considering the shortness of the grass, the clothes and of course the kittens they hold.

My sister Loren in an undated photo I keep next to my desk at home. Judging from the car I would say from the early 1980’s. If I was in NJ I might find a photo of all of us. Will have to wait!

You can’t really see it easily but there is a great variety in kittens here. From left to right we have a tortie, a tabby, a sort of gray soft stripe and a gray tuxie. Not at all impossible that they are all from the same litter however.

These kids are clearly also of the same litter! Far from identical, however there is a strong family resemblance brought out further by their matching bowl style hair cuts. Each one wears it a bit differently though – bangs aside or straight, one where they are cropped short. The girl in the plaid dress is clearly the eldest but the exact order of the others is left to our musing.

A close look at their faces and the girls look more alike to each other than they do with the man who I have been assuming is dad. Family resemblance is a strange thing I always think. Sometimes I am sitting on the subway or walking down the street and a family passes and all I can think is that they could never deny all being related. This always comes to mind in my reading of early novels (someone denying a child is theirs) and this was satisfied as a plot point in a Rose Mulholland novel recently – the striking resemblance to her father could not be denied! More on that possibly as a tomorrow post.

A still young Cookie and Blackie bearing some resemblance here.

My family sort of mixed and matched with familial likeness – not looking alike, stronger resemblance to one parent when young and then another. My sister and I, she of the curly hair and I of the straight, never looked much alike however once someone who knew me from work walked up to my brother and announced we must be siblings. (We were at a rare moment, like these girls, when we were sporting approximately the same haircut.)

My brother may be surprised to hear me say it but, although he and I have always looked more strongly like my mother’s side of the family, I saw a recent photo where he looks very much like our father. (I think it is the beard Edward.) Kim has a rather extraordinary family likeness with his brothers and I gather his fraternal grandmother from whom he inherited his distinctive eyes. There is an additional family resemblance though also to both his mother and his father.

This is of course also true for cats and cat families. My mom used to quote from an old genetics text that this kind of cat and that kind of cat likely to produce this or this cat. I could never keep it straight.

There are days when you can tell that Cookie and Blackie hatched from the same mom and dad combo. Other times, Cookie being smaller, mightier and a tuxie to Blackie’s bigger all black handsomeness makes it appear as if there is no resemblance.

Beau (left) and Blackie meet for the first time.

The one litter of kittens I grew up with bore a remarkable resemblance to each other (variations on gray and tabby striped), but not to their mother (Winkie, a tortie) at all. And for that reason perhaps, she utterly disowned any knowledge of them after a point. I have commented on how Blackie and Beauregard (the all black male kitty of the Jersey Five) stared at each other, clearly in recognition of the fact that they looked alike. (A post about the New York cats meeting the New Jersey cats can be found here.)

It is too bad no one thought to include the mom cat in this photo – assuming she was a denizen of the same household. It would have rounded things out nicely. It is fun to speculate that the cats and the kids grew up over time side by side.