family photos

Comfort in Cats

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Just coming off the Louis Wain Catland bio (I posted about that last week and it can be found here) I am self-consciously thoughtful suddenly about how the public sentiment about cats has shifted over the past 100+ years since humans just started finding their sea legs with them as domestic beloveds.

It wasn’t long after the Victorian period that cats were taken up in popular advertising at the dawn of the 20th century. This grinning black kit with the yellow bow was the longstanding spokes-cat for the Black Cat Hosiery company and was so popular for decades that the advertising items from it remain in high demand and often is quite pricey today. (This bit of an ad with thanks to Sandi Outland, via @curiositiesantique who sent it several months back – the the sea, my desk has spit it up from the depths for today’s consideration and helped inspire this post.)

I have written about the company on other occasions so if you want more info on the company you can find it in a post here – and more here. The above ad is from a July, 1907 McCalls magazine and other ads on the page are for, most fascinatingly, H&H Pneumatic Bust Forms (yes, like stuffing your bra – no one will know) and Modene hair removal for face, neck and arms – it cannot fail! Our black cat was in good company.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

So in a mere few decades cats began to morph into the area they would command for many decades to come. However, I think it is fair to say that with the part of our lives that are now lived online some of us have taken our interest in cats to a much more highly developed level.

A photo of a young Betty Butler, holding our cat Snoopy back in the 1960’s from a Mother’s Day post this year.

Speaking for myself, my interest in cats began as a small child. Pictorama readers know that I have written numerous times about my childhood cat friends, Snoopy, a white cat with black cow spots with whom I shared many important childish conversations. But there was also Pumpkin who came to me as a tiny kitten ball of orange fluff and grew into an enormous faded-orange tabby who followed me around with dog-like devotion. As I got older my cat Winkie, a tiny tortie polydactyl with huge toed front paws like mitts, was my particular confidant. As a young adult Otto Dix (Miss Otto Dix), a tuxie from a corn farm in New Jersey, became my constant companion and closest friend, a very special cat especially smart cat who I still miss to this day.

However, until relatively recent years, my love and interest in cats (other than what I collect of course) was limited largely to those I knew – mostly my own or those of my mother. I suppose it started even before the pandemic, but certainly during those long days and nights that following cats online became a habit. First there was Maru the Japanese cat (to be precise, a Scottish Straight cat who lives in Japan) who can’t resist box and likes to get into boxes, some that are way too small for him. There was the somewhat neurotic French cat, Henri, a long haired tuxie who has Existential angst. The French also brought us cats playing Paddy Cake which never fails to make me laugh and for some reason is only funny to me in the French – there is an English version.

Still, those were occasional and one-off entertainment. I believe for me that cats as a form of online entertainment and escapism was born of the darkest period of the pandemic, fueled by late nights of waking up and worrying about work. Unable to sleep, I would read Judy Bolton novels (the first in a lot of early series books I read and I wrote about Judy Bolton here) and take a spin through Instagram, sometimes buying the odd item, but also entering the world of cats online and sometimes following even their most daily routines.

I’m probably skipping ahead a bit but Sadie and Dottie (@sadieanddottie), a tuxie and a white kit with cow spots, and who appear to live in Queens, brightened many a dark day when I realized a new post or story had been posted. These largely consist of these two cats growing up, but mostly doing cat stuff like watching birds and napping. Yes, I can watch my own cats do that (although Deitch Studio is situated a little high for birds out the window) and I do, but it turns out I like to watch other cats do it too.

A screen grab of this little video of Sadie.

With almost 14,000 viewers cat mom Lauren Grummel and cat dad Chas Reynolds, Jr. appear to have their hands full supplying frequent doses of their kitties going through their daily paces. A favorite post is an imaginative one of Sadie (the tux) sailing away on a boat at night in search of parents who will give her more treats instead of telling her she’s had enough. (Find it here.)

There is @Fatfink (aka Devlin Thompson) who I first got to know on Facebook, but now is an Instagram constant. His record of the comings and goings of his small menagerie of four cats, (these days Clawford, Kookie, Mr. Biscuits and Miss Rupert), which includes some recent rescues and things like his daily fight over his dinner with them or other such tidbits, are interspersed with an aligned interest in comics – but it is really over the kits that we bond. He sends me great cat videos too which I often find first thing in the morning and cheer my day.

Newly acquired Clawford.
Clawford recently introduced to this rather rarified Deitch portfolio!

A friend on the west coast started supplying me with both funny and moving video snippets of cats during the difficult period of caring for my mother although she continues to send them since I like them so much. These videos, many from The Dodo are chock-a-block full of cats paired with a myriad of other odd animals as friends (deer, dogs, cows) or doing un-catlike activities like motorcycle riding or boating. It is especially lovely and a real kindness as she herself isn’t especially fond of cats so she seeks them out just for me.

Most recently I have fallen hard for team Penny and Felix on Instagram. Penny (@pennythegingercat) is a somewhat sardonic and absolutely adorable orange tabby female (yes, a rarity) and Felix (@felixthepalegingercat) her younger brother, a lean and lanky light orange fellow. (Penny alone has upwards of 650,000 followers!)

The antics of these two (two accounts means twice the fun) include but are not limited to: Felix’s impatience over getting his breakfast in the morning, Penny’s preference of Dad over Mom, Penny sleeping as a face down loaf and the like. These have cheered me endlessly over the past year. Highlights have included Penny entering the Olympics this year as a gold medal winning cat loaf champion and I credit the duo for having invented the term skippity pap (or at least made it enter my personal lexicon) – which is accompanied by a sort of whoosh-smack sound effect that is especially satisfying. It is among the few accounts I turn my sound on for routinely.

The dynamic cat duo’s mom and dad (mom is the voice over for the most part) do a brilliant job of editing, voice over – they are top pros at it and I bless them daily for these inventive missives that come over my transom, brightening all days. Quite simply I cannot recommend them enough for a cat dopamine daily dose.

Four out of the NJ Five here – Gus missing.
Blackie and Cookie peevishly sharing the bed with each other and of course Kim recently.

I have written before about social media and my belief that if content is carefully chosen and tended it can be a rabbit hole of blissful escapism. During the brutal hustle and full-on assault of our shifting political world I have found myself diving deeply into this somewhat alternate universe of cats. As the mother of the NYC duo Cookie and Blackie, and the Jersey Five (Beau, Milty, Gus, Peaches and Stormy) and the head of fundraising for a major emergency animal hospital – you’d think I would get enough daily dose of the kitty world, but simply, no – quite simply, I prefer even more.

I started subscribing to a daily newspaper in high school and have more or less read one daily every since, butI lately find my ability to read above the fold reduced to a nervous skittering across headlines as I head down the page to stories about things like a research study on puppy kindergarten – the super socializing of puppies to see if they make better service animals (NYT and can be found here). So today I pay tribute to those folks online who may not inform my politics, nor deliver my news, but who are vital community which cheers my daily existence.

Hot Popcorn

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: It’s a crisp fall weekend here in New York City. Tomorrow will, in part, be devoted to a Halloween Howl dog parade over at Carl Schurz park. I will stop by the animal hospital’s table and visit my colleagues handing out animal care info. Costumed cuties will likely abound so keep a weather eye out for pics on Instagram.

Meanwhile, today’s photo is one of those odd one off purchases for me. Saw it, liked it and followed my nose to purchasing it. I can imagine this being a much loved family photo of this proud family business owner of yore.

It came to me via the Midwest (dealer of all things vintage @missmollystlantiques), but there are no identifiers as to location. Emanelo Fine Cigars are boasted and Camels proudly in large letters below it. The sign that reads Pharmacy is decidedly less prominent, at least for the purposes of this photo.

Clearly the pharmacy was also where you went for your cigars and cigarettes and there is a sign for something called Penetro, which a quick bit of research tells me was a medicated rub. Sort of like Vicks I assume. (That from my childhood – does it still exist? I haven’t heard of anyone using it for years.) There is a tiny advertisement for Kodak also on the far left.

Our fellow, I assume proprietor, stands proudly in front of the establishment and with this splendid popcorn machine which is labeled Hot Popcorn. This is not a photo postcard, but a photo and it shows evidence of having been glued into an album at one point. The Deco border dates it back to the early years of the 20th century, but for decade it is a bit timeless and hard to nail down.

Pictorama readers know that I have restaurants on one side of my family tree and a dry goods store on the other. I would love to have a photo like this of either establishment, but in some ways especially Butler Dry Goods which I retain a very dim memory of having been in. It is more a memory of light and smell and space than of the specifics of the interior.

I inherited a large number of photos which I am going through in New Jersey. I don’t know where they all were because there are many I never saw before. Of course now with mom gone I have largely lost my ability to have the family members identified.

Many of these photos are from my dad’s family and I’m not sure how many she would have known as these were long before her time too. Dad never knew. He seemed to remain somewhat willfully ignorant about his family history and passed almost no stories on. Mom held what tales we had, as told to her by Dad’s mother. I have a few cousins who might find them of interest and I should scan some for them. I imagine I will share the best of the pictures with you all too as future posts.

Peaches

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today is an oddball post – I wish to introduce you all to Peaches, the second youngest, female cat of the New Jersey tribe of five. She’s also one of the meanest cats I have ever met. Perhaps considering her story she has some snark coming to her. I will let you decide.

Most readers know that in April of ’23 I inherited a house and five cats from my mother. At her behest, the cats continue to reside here where someone cares for them and the house when I am not here, as Deitch Studio in Manhattan is still our home base. This presents some logistical problems, but fewer than I might have expected when my mother first presented this request, as it became clear that her time was limited.

Shown here with Hobo, our outdoor visitor. They look so much alike! Seems impossible that they are related – Hobo lives too many miles away. But still…

For some background, my mother had briefly whittled her cat family down to something manageable a few years ago when she adopted, first, an all black kitten (Beauregard or Beau) from an agency in Newark, but then followed in rapid succession by two who came to the backdoor (Gus and Stormy) and Peaches whose story I am going to tell today. After the acquisition of Stormy (the youngest) I did request that she stop acquiring cats as it was clear that these were indeed going to end up being my cats.

Our holiday card featuring the whole family (including Hobo) for a quick cat reference.

Unlike the others who, as outlined above, either came through the front door via adoption or showed up repeatedly and starving at the back, Peaches was acquired sight unseen. My mother loved to tell the Peaches acquisition story.

Prized spot in our bedroom. Forbidden territory when the NYC cats are here.

At that time, now about three years ago, my mom had a cousin living with her. They had both grown up in a nearby town called Long Branch and her cousin inherited a house there, but lived with mom for a few years. Word was, back near her house in Long Branch, a friend heard a cat meowing over several days and had called Animal Control to find out what was going on and get the cat.

Seems somehow this cat had gotten away from the mother and the litter and was trapped in a basement after falling down a hole. Poor little thing was starving and crying.

Peaches does play with toys.

My mom knew that it was likely that a feral kitten would ultimately be put down as unadoptable. She called Animal Control in Long Branch as soon as the cat was picked up and told them not to put her down and that she would take it.

I guess the guy said, Lady, you don’t want this cat! It is the meanest cat we’ve ever had to catch. So wild we had to use a broom handle to move the carrier with her in it! And of course mom said she didn’t care and wanted the cat.

She very much enjoys watching the activity on the deck where chipmonks and other critters have been known to roam. Recently I found what I think were groundhog muddy tracks across it so quite a show.

She arrived and was christened Peaches for the woman who had heard her and called Animal Control originally. She entered our house at the time as the youngest and only female cat of the house. To my knowledge no one has ever actually touched Peaches since she came to Oxford Avenue. She hid at first and then slowly assimilated to the extent that she would hang with the pack of cats but keep a wide birth (six or more feet) from any human.

Left to her own devices (which she largely is) she seems quite content.

Over the past several years she has thawed slightly. She now willingly sit in the same room as us, sometimes quite close. When I am feeding them she will come right up to me but if I try to touch her or get too close where she is curled up she will hiss, spit and growl. On this trip however, she “accidentally” jumped up on the arm of my chair and stared me in the eye for several long moments before panic set in and she flew back off. I was as stunned as she was.

Milty and Peaches.

She has one outstanding cat friendship in the house, with Milty, our most senior cat. I will occasionally find them sleeping together. She’ll go over and gently groom him once in a while. It seems like an unlikely pairing, but I am pleased she has a compatriot among the cats.

This just the other day. Happy Peaches.

There have been days this summer when I have caught her rolling and stretching happily. I think she is a contented cat in general, even if her interactions with the human population are limited. I used to joke with my mother that in ten years when Peaches was happily installed on my lap being petted we would look back and remember how we couldn’t get near her. I am less sure of that future, but she’s one of the Butler family cats now to stay.

B. C. Gregory Elementary School, 1922

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This item came my way via a rather splendid if small used bookstore in San Diego called Blustocking Books. I was just about to check out when this photo caught my eye. I added it to the purchase pile having given it only a passing look.

Since my discovery of a clutch of yard long photos I am keeping a collector’s weather eye out for group photos like this and especially from the early decades of the 20th Century. I have a theoretical parameter of beach related or New Jersey related images, however rules are made to be broken, right? However, when I went to look for B.C. Gregory elementary school you can imagine my surprise that the first and most persistent results are for my mother’s hometown here in New Jersey, Long Branch. I can’t help but wonder if I went all the way to California to find a photograph of a local Jersey grade school. perhaps even one that my mother went to, although this one well before her grade school days.

The landscape gives us no definitive clues, the long fir tree and scant foliage could belong to either coast. The children’s clothes provide no indication either.

Youngest children in front and the oldest in the back looking a bit older than the sort of eighth grade or so that elementary schools generally age out at. While not in uniform, the have clearly been requested to dress within some guidelines with their white shirts, mostly dark ties on the fellows, a smattering of suits. The girls are largely in white blouses, but right in the center are two girls in plaid dresses, on atop of the other.

Detail of the kids in back holding up the school sign.

As is always the case and especially with a longer exposure in the day, there are a few blurred heads of those who could not sit still. The banner with the year is front and center by some of our youngest participants and the school name is on a banner at the back held up two young gentleman who do not look like they enjoy their assignment.

While we are all familiar with school photos of this kind it is interesting that this was such a small school – the entire elementary school is shown here and in my day would have maybe been a single grade. I am wondering if in this very house I have some of my dutiful class photos. I know I have several years of grammar school somewhere. (Those did not turn up before posting sadly, another day to see me in my grade school days.)

Perhaps it is the longish exposure (or just school!), but this is not a group where many are attempting to smile. The third row from the front is the most smiling I see. It has that charmed moment in time quality. Those in front anticipating moving up the steps further each year, those at the top ready to move on to high school and beyond.

Hello Dearie

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I am running late today for this post, my second from New Jersey this summer. The neglected garden needed my attention while it was still cool enough to work out here. It was a small start, but I am also tired from my first week as a commuter and getting over a bad head cold last weekend. However, it should also be noted that today is the first day of six since we got here where it has not been a torrential downpour either. Let the garden enjoyment (and work) begin!

Nevertheless, I have this little treasure which arrived at Deitch Studio shortly before our departure last weekend. While the aged quality of this photo makes it less than perfect, it was an irresistible image to add to the Pictorama collection.

Recent acquisition and post as below.

The concept of the perfect Felix costume has long stoked my imagination and I believe informed Kim’s Alias the Cat. (That book – one of the best ever! – for purchase can be found here.) While I search to acquire the perfect mask photos of Felix costumes can also satisfy. I just posted about another and it is unusual because I don’t really have that many in my collection. (A post about that recent acquisition, shown above, can be found here.)

Opening of Kim’s Alias the Cat.

Early in my collecting I found an interesting clutch of early photos of folks donning Felix costumes. Tiny snapshots of people in masks or full costume. Oddly, I didn’t acquire them together either which is sort of fascinating. That post from the early days of Pictorama can be found here.

Today’s photo is a tintype and as to be expected that means the writing on Felix’s chest is reversed. Hard to know if Felix was an adult with these two small bunny attired kids. More likely an older child. While it is definitely an off-model mask it was commercially made, as were the bunny outfits the other children sport.

One from a series of photos from the post mentioned above.

I have no explanation for the staff or cane held, but the older of the two rabbit kids. If I had to guess (and it would be a guess) I would say the older of those two is a girl. I have no idea at all about the younger. They are outside and a careful look shows a woman behind them and some buildings, or more likely pictures of buildings, behind her. There are other indistinct people and things, however the picture grows wavy there and they are unreadable.

I was surprised to be reminded that this photo actually came from Louisiana, not Great Britain. The holder strikes me as oh so British and of course it’s most recent home before mine was not necessarily its place of origin. I believe that virtually all of the Felix tintypes I have of this sort have come from either England or Australia. Having said that, most of them are people posing with large Felix dolls and this is just kids in costume.

Wall decor at Deitch Studio.

I have yet to decide how the Pictorma library will stretch in the Jersey digs and have yet to start to hang things, although some of the yard long photos are on display. I mostly leave the items here that have ended up here, but I hope for the leisure to make some determinations about decoration. More to come when I figure that out. For now it has gotten too hot for the garden and there are numerous cats requesting pets.

A Bowl of Cherries

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: A few different things conspired to prompt a rather wonderful childhood memory recently. The first was our friend Bruce bringing over a bag of Ranier cherries – the ones that are sort of orange fading to a bright red, rather than the dark maroon of the more common ones. Despite the story I am going to tell, I somehow came to gobbling cherries late in life, but have eaten them with an abandon to make up for lost time. I generally buy the dark red ones, but cast no shade on the Ranier variety.

The next things was this little device shown at top – a cherry pitter. I also use it for pitting olives. I was in New Jersey a few weeks back and realized that I only had my decades old one, acquired in cooking school tucked happily away in our New York apartment.

Not much to look at yet it is perfectly adequate for these two tasks and if you are trying to cook with either cherries or olives it is a much needed and appreciated tool. To be without it means any chance of a perfectly sliced cherries or olives for decorative effect will likely not happen. I promptly ordered the contemporary equivalent from Amazon. I searched cherry olive pitter and there is was. The beauty of the internet age. I sent it to NJ and it was waiting for me when I got here on Wednesday; it is a decidedly zippier, upgraded version. A happy summer of cherry and olive pitting awaits.

Meanwhile, the memory in question was one of an annual cherry picking at my grandmother’s house. She had an enormous Ranier cherry tree in the backyard. In retrospect as an adult I don’t think I realized that cherry trees got that big. It required a proper ladder to get to the top.

Was actually a bit hard to find a photo online of a large-ish one. My grandmother’s was much larger than this! It makes me remember it being in bloom though.

Anyway, the kids, spouses of kids and grandkids were all assembled and we picked cherries all day. There were sea green plastic buckets I can still see in my mind and we filled them with those orangey red cherries. My grandmother would then take them and cook them down and can them. They would supply pie filling and get spread on toast for the rest of the year and long winter ahead. (Mom’s mom who I have written about before here with a historic photo of that yard – sadly the tree was in the other direction and would have been tiny!)

These are exactly as I remember them.

Oddly, I don’t remember eating them off the tree. Now, I was at the time probably the youngest family member of the team, probably about five or six at the time I am describing before my brother was born. Perhaps my mother, always a worrier, didn’t want me eating pit filled cherries. I can see her fretting about that. Anyway, I didn’t and somehow didn’t really get into the swing of eating cherries until I was more or less an adult. If I were able to visit that tree today I’d be popping half in my mouth as I went, eating my body weight in cherries off the tree.

On one of those days I remember it ending in, if not a barbeque at least a picnic. (My Italian grandmother wasn’t really much into barbeque – she liked to cook her food on her stove and in her oven and make the table grown with delicacies which were not of the grilled burger variety.) I wandered around and found my way to a small tree. Much to my horror, as I touched the tree I was immediately covered with ants! I screamed the way only a small child shocked by ants can scream. It took a minute for mom to figure out what was wrong with me, get them off and set me right. (Tree must not have been well to be full of ants, but I don’t remember much about it.)

Dusk on the deck with the fairy lights on. Deck (and lights) had to be completely redone last fall – boards were all rotted! This is my first evening of return on investment! Well worth it.

Perhaps that memory came back to me because as I write this I am sitting on my deck in New Jersey, in the evening of July 4. Next to me on the fence I share with my neighbor, I discovered a huge and evidently industrious ant colony. I can see those hard working fellows even by the dim light of my fairy lights out here. Do ants ever stop and rest? These don’t appear to as I spotted them early this morning and they are still at it.

On of the solar lights I have around which I love!

A gentle boom, boom of distant fireworks is going off, but not enough to bother either me or the five New Jersey cats who have had their dinner and are largely sleeping. Fireflies have come out and look like miniature versions of the fairy lights. (People ask me if we still have fireflies and I am glad to assure them we do – have they really disappeared from places?) The mosquitoes, whose enthusiasm for my flesh has been somewhat tempered by some spray will chase me in soon. But my first evening on the deck this year and I guess summer has begun.

The back gate! Newly installed light here also last fall – so we have a bit of light coming and going at night. It is motion activated.

Black Cat Couture

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Many of us have a period in the past and it is certainly no secret that my affinity is for the 1920’s and early ’30’s. Let’s face it, this was a very Felix-y time. However, it was a time a very black cat time in general – reaching a bit earlier to the ‘teens.

I have previously opined with some lust over items like the Halloween decor of the earliest part of the 20th century. (Some posts boasting extremely jolly Dennison’s Halloween decorating books from the teens can be found here.) The dress being sported in the back row of this photo does make me yearn for a time when lucky black cats decorated both items and clothing. Interesting that this is not at all a costume, not festive Halloween wear, just an otherwise white summer dress.

My own version of black cat clothing from a post last fall. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Obviously this photo came to my attention due to the fashion statement of the woman with the large black scaredy cat on her dress. Pictorama applauds her attire and I am so glad it is memorialized here. The seller on eBay states that this is the 1920’s and also that it was from Newark, New Jersey. That these are fellow Jersey Girls makes me like it even more.

It is a small photo, not a postcard. It is a petit 3″x 4.5″ and the rounded edges is a slightly unusual printing style. On the back it is stamped 516 LxL Newark, NJ and something that didn’t come out. Sadly no identifiers or date.

Not clothing, but an arresting cat pillow image here from a post last September. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Nine women are gathered in this grouping. It’s hard to say from hairstyles and clothing if the seller is right about the date or if this might creep into the early 30’s. The back row of younger women all wear white while the front row, seated on benches in front the women look a bit older and are wearing floral prints and a bit more dressed up.

My friend with the black cat dress has had the good sense to stand apart a bit so we get pretty much the full effect, while the three woman at the end are sort of grouped naturally together. In the front two women sit with their heads together – makes you wonder about the relationships represented here.

Took this photo of a friend’s daughter’s shoes last summer. Were beloved hand me downs from another friend. Who wouldn’t love these?

This appears to be a nice backyard on a spring or summer day – too hot for using the fire pit and wood right in front of the scene and a large garage with double doors (just like my NJ grandmother had) behind them. To my knowledge, Newark and the immediately surrounding area were more residential at this time than the very urban way we think of it now. The amateur photographer has the top row of women butting up against the outside of the frame, but this way we do see a bit more of the yard. I’ve improved it a tiny bit, but it is also overexposed.

Part of me wonders how the black cat dress was received – it certainly is the most sporty bit of attire here. Were the back row of women following some general mandate to wear white and did this qualify? Perhaps ironic that it has saved this photo from complete obscurity and earned it a perch here at Pictorama.

Spare Felix?

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Portland, Oregon! Although the seller of today’s find was in California, this photo obviously appears to hail from Portland originally. Rogue homemade Felix seems to have proliferated in Portland back in the day and I would love to know why that city seems to have had a special relationship with him.

It’s been quite a while since I have purchased a Pacific Northwest Felix, but I had a spate of them early in my collecting career which gave me the idea that they had a specific yen for him. Parade floats and costumes – there’s was homegrown Felix fun in that part of the country and I am sorry to have missed it. (These location specific Felixes form a sub-genre of my collection. Posts for these pics can be found here, here, here, here and here!)

One of a clutch of photos of the same batch from an early post. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

This natty fellow and his slightly off-model Felix-y wheel cover fits well in the group. While Felix looks slightly more like his identical cousin than himself, it is a pretty good likeness. the gentleman posing is so clearly pleased to show this off I’d say. Bow tie, vest and jacket, he’s dressed and posing for the photo.

An early Portland parade post. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

It’s a small photo. Only a little more than 3″ x 2″. Like the other photos I have mentioned above, there isn’t a lot of information in the image. There is a nice cottage in view behind him, trees and telephone poles. There’s no back license plate which might have supplied a year, and nothing is written on the back. However, Oregon (and our assumed place of origin) is supplied over Felix.

Another Portland parade post (although a not Felix), pic from 1909. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

I do not own a car and don’t really drive, although I assume with the house in Jersey this is something I will need to fix over time. Oh to be able to do it in style like this however.

Elliott

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I guess I have on occasion posted about father’s day. (Most notably in an unusual post before he died which can be found here.) Generally I tend to find it painful and assume others may as well. However, I just came across this photo of my dad the other day while looking for something else and I decided I would share it today.

November of 2017 seems like worlds ago for me, for all of us I guess in many ways since we managed to have two pandemic years we didn’t see coming in the midst of it. I had started my new job at Jazz at Lincoln Center earlier that year after almost 30 years at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I had already been to Shanghai with the orchestra and was trying to adjust to a very different pace of work. (Posts about leaving the Met and that wild trip to Shanghai can be found here and here.)

Shanghai toy cafe.

Meanwhile, my parents had recently moved into this house, the house I inherited and will visit later today. That alone has changed so much. First my mother directed much of the planting in the yard which went from somewhat neglected to a sanctuary, but even in the year since she passed I have transformed it further with more plantings, a vegetable and herb garden and made the deck an oasis.

The NJ garden in clean up mode a month of so back. Strawberries and cherry tomatoes are evidently already producing. More on that later today.

The years she and my father spent in this house were years of caregiving and the house was set up around that. The bedroom I have taken was my father’s. (I used to sleep in a sunny room on the second floor which in some ways I preferred, but mom wanted me to take the main bedroom at a later time and ultimately it made sense so I could be closer to her at night.)

Recent photo of the front of the house in NJ.

Pictorama readers have seen, most notably, the garden transform. However, I have made many changes inside, redoing the floors, adding furniture, rugs, lamps and, of course since it is me we’re talking about, interesting stuff I have collected – already.

An older Milty on a very recent visit.

Still, this view out the window remains largely unchanged. It is a sunny, favorite window. I still have that chair, but it was moved a bit during mom’s last illness and has remained there. (That chair is Beauregard the cat’s favorite spot and if you sit in the chair with him he will pat your head.) For several years it gave first dad and then mom the best view of the small but cheerful yard to enjoy daily.

I remember the day I took this photo very well. It is the only picture I took that day. Dad had returned from a stint in the hospital and Kim and I were visiting and I snatched it discreetly. He had a rare very good day that day, arguably the last really, and I pretty much knew it was a real moment of grace in an inevitable decline. I remember him being very lucid and remembering all sorts of things in conversation with some prompting by me and mom; his memory turned to Swiss cheese at the end – bits he would recall perfectly and then complete holes. He was very candid about it.

Dad is taking a rest and enjoying the sun here. His extremely devoted cat Red on his lap. (I have written about Red here – a real prince among cats that one!) Our other cat, Milty (still around today at about 20 years of age and one of the New Jersey five) is observing from a favorite spot on the window sill – much beloved. Mom filled it with plants over time and although I keep fewer there than she did, there are still a bunch. I’ve changed the blinds as the existing ones (like so many things – think roof, deck!) broke shortly after mom died.

Red on my bed, a photo taken about a year after the one of dad.

Also on that window sill are some reproduction Remington bronze sculptures which were among dad’s favorite possessions. He always loved bronze sculptures and liked to have these around him. (There was at least one other, enormous one, at one time.) I recently found myself in someone’s office who also had some of these, including a large reproduction made for a restaurant, and immediately felt at home. All the walkers, bottles and other paraphernalia of illness is there too.

I have written posts about my father and his interesting and fulfilling life as a cameraman for ABC news, and about his youth and riding a motorcycle across the country (those can be found here and here), but today, just a small tribute to that moment in 2017, coughed up by my phone and as a gentle nod to the Father’s Day holiday today.

Uncle Zack

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: As I start writing this post I am in New Jersey on Saturday evening with Beauregard, the huge all black cat, who is the master of this NJ Butler house. It is the end of several sunny days of stay here and I will head home tomorrow – potentially completing this on the train if I cannot before.

This photo postcard came to me via eBay and is an odd choice for me. This little girl with her chicken on a leash charmed me. Small children with pet chickens seems to be popular on the internet these days so poultry pets remain popular. Working for a veterinary hospital with an active Exotics service, we see a fair number of chickens. (Presumably chickens that are for eating go to a different sort of vet than us although obviously we’d care for one in need if presented!)

The little girl is nicely dressed in trousers and boots with a somewhat sporty coat with a design of the buttons across her shoulder and chest. She looks quite happy as does the (large) chicken on a string leash. There’s one or two other chickens, behind a fence in the distance who look on and the soil looks dusty. The nearest vegetation we can see are trees way off in the distance and the sun is casting long shadows. Given her attire, it was chilly.

This card was never sent and looks like it was quite beloved, handled. It is undated, but on the back in a child’s neatest script it says uncle zack.

Many years ago I remember my mother had a video of a woman she knew slightly about her and her pet chicken. I don’t remember the chicken’s name, but it lived in the house, primarily in a sort of all season room at the front of the house. A cared for pet chicken might live to be ten or twelve years old according to the internet, I actually thought it was older. The chicken in the video went everywhere with this woman – today it might have been considered a comfort animal.

Recently in a talk given to staff to celebrate diversity, one of the vet’s pointed out that some clients feel that people belittle their choice of an usual animal and express surprise that they would pay so much for the care of a fish, tiny turtle or perhaps chicken or duck. (I also heard about surgery on a goldfish recently which fascinated me! The surgeon was evidently personally quite fond of goldfish and frustrated by a common cause of death in them he was able to improve but not resolve the fish-y issue.) However, as animal lovers our heart knows no such boundaries and be it pigeon or porcupine we are committed to them and find great happiness with critters in all species, shapes and sizes.