Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today is a companion piece to yesterday’s post about my love for all things opal in jewelry. However, the other side of that coin is opalite. Opalite is an opalescent manmade substance which is either glass or plastic. Like an opal it has the property of changing color based on light and the colors around it. Alternately called argenon, sea opal, opal moonstone or living under a bunch of similar names, it delivers much of the bang without the buck so to speak.
Shown up close here it is about a one inch long stone.
While I have likely run into it before (as a shiny object, opal and moonstone loving person) it wasn’t until it crossed our paths in the form of delightful square lumps on a trip to Red Bank on summer day in New Jersey that it rose into prominence for us.
Kim and I had walked into town to peruse the comic book store and do a few other minor errands. We decided to have lunch at a pleasant outdoor cafe but were told we needed to wait about ten minutes for a table. We were in no rush so we gave them my cell number and decided to kill time in a store next door called Earth Spirit (online here if you are curious).
I like the way the whole store is just open to the street, alluring.
Unlike many establishments in Red Bank these days, this one has managed to hang on for quite a stint. It sells crystals and incense and well, stones. It wouldn’t be the one I would pick for longevity but somehow it has stuck around. They seem to specialize in different kinds of tarot card decks and part of a wall was devoted to those.
We had never been in and I was especially enamored of a sign advertising aura photographs and while I was investigating that Kim was picking through the glorious selection of “stones”. I wandered over to see what he was up to and I’m not sure which of us discovered the bowl of opalite first, but we immediately each grabbed one to purchase.
Our lunch reservation came up just as we were purchasing our stones. I never did get my aura photo taken but this was a good trade off.
Aura photos on display. $25 to take one and $40 if you want a reading.
It promised us enhanced creativity and AI tells us it also used to support people through life transitions, foster inner peace…and deepen spiritual connection, especially during meditation. I am not going to be the detractor to question these qualities from a manmade substance so while I wonder I will not, um, throw stones. I took mine to work and Kim has his prominently displayed on his desk, shown above. He has lovingly embraced it and its properties, real or imagined.
Variations on opalite above.
Opalite evidently has no single inventor but it appears to have come on the market in the 1980’s. There is a fair amount of variety to the “stones”.
Evidently Taylor Swift has a new song with opalite in the lyrics which will perhaps boost it into greater prominence. It interests me a bit why you’d have an opalite sky rather than an opal one but in another way it makes sense. Opalite in all its forms appears to be a more coherent glow, as opposed to the sparking bits of fire in the different kinds of opal gemstones. Meanwhile, there is plenty of room in our heart for both.
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!)
Kim getting his NY desk set back up.
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 bivouacprocess 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.
Pups from a prior Paws & Pints.
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.
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.
A batch of popovers made by a friend.
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.
Kim working at his temporary desk.
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.
Kim’s set up for work here.
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.)
Ferris wheel view at fair.
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.
Before andafter!
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!
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Today’s treat is a clear example of the curios you will come across if you consistently spend time down a given rabbit hole of collecting as I tend to. Definitely in the more interesting than good, this old press photo caught my eye recently and was on its way to me lickety split. It had found its way from the East coast to Los Angeles, but it is back home in the tri-state area again.
Its eBay listing,1936 Disney Mickey Mouse Costume Atlantic City Steel Pier Midgets Felix the Cat, was designed to catch my attention a few different ways. And really, put that way, who could resist it?
Deconstructing that amazing sentence a bit – Felix? Um, I hate to be a critic but I think they were very safe from copyright infringement on that one. It is somewhat more illuminated by the press information stored on the back. Glued to the back, in a very old fashioned type, is the following breaking news:
Back of the photo.
YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THAT CAT – That is about what Mickey Mouse was telling pretty Miss Betty Van Auken, New York visitor sunbathing on the Atlantic City Steel Pier. And Mickey’s girl friend Minnie Mouse listened, a little careful of Mickey around such beauty. Mickey and Minnie are members of the Steel Pier midget colony that helps to entertain guests on the ocean amusement structure. It has an index number, A16353 and it says, Ref. Dept. 7-28-36 N.E.A.
The Steel Pier seems to be the major amusement pier in Atlantic City and we will assume it has been ever thus. And while it seems sensible that this figure with Mickey was never meant to be Felix, it’s decidedly un-Minnie like as well, both mask and outfit. (And that suit looks hot for a July in Atlantic City too – she’d have been much happier in Minnie’s usual brief attire!) Mickey still looks a bit overdressed for July, but is in more traditional Mickey garb.
Comic book publication of Stuff of Dreams, #3, cover image.
It took a few times before the midget colony part sunk into my consciousness. Fascinating on its own, it also reminded me immediately of a story Kim did years ago, No Midgets in Midgetville which had roots in an actual town in northern NJ which is said to have originally been the winter home of a group of traveling circus midgets. (That story was published in his book, Alias the Cat which can be purchased on Amazon here or search eBay. Or you can find it in single comics under the name, Stuff of Dreams #3.)
Back cover of Stuff of Dreams #3.
We went and looked at the remains of the enclave of small (and occasionally tiny) houses as research for the story, an interesting morning jaunt with my ever patient father. In these days of tiny homes it is a bit hard to say how much truth was in the story, although some house did seem quite small. (The original story about it being Midgetville originated in the New York Times back in 2002 and can be found here although there are other references to the town online.) Regardless, the idea that circus performers (perhaps of all sizes) wintered there perhaps makes sense and it makes additional sense that perhaps some of those performers went no further than Atlantic City seaside for a summer gig.
Centerfold of Midgetville, Kim Deitch, Stuff of Dreams.
As for Miss Betty Van Auken of New York – it is hard to believe that even a veteran New Yorker showed up in Atlantic in a bathing suit, mincing along in high heels and lipstick for a day at the beach. At first I didn’t even bother googling her but it turns out that 1936 was her year. She has a Broadway role (Dodsworth) and film credits from that year, The Garden of Allah, Oasis Girl (uncredited), and a small part as a manicurist in Big Brown Eyes. The trail grows cold after that.
The weirdness of this duo continues to nag at me though. How odd to be on the seaside pier in roasting July heat, eating your cotton candy and have these two come gamboling up around you. The Stuff of Dreams indeed!
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: My fascination with these cards is at the root of starting this blog (as a summer project while recovering from foot surgery, confined to bed for weeks) as a way of organizing and recording my then nascent collection. It expanded to toys and eventually life, but the square one was folks with Felix in a parade of early 20th century photos.
If you consider reincarnation you might think that some time back, about 100 years ago, I decided to forego and opportunity to have my picture taken with Felix, or I was a small child and no one would listen to me, or it was taken and lost. I have found a tiny window onto my past passion and devote myself to the glorious fulfilling of it now.
Margate photo. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.
Romantic day dreams of Felix lost and found aside, I now own a pile of these photos – far more than I have room to display here in the apartment although I have started to think of what a series of them would look like in New Jersey and need to consider a spot without much sun which is more challenging there.
As postulated in my post last week about two somewhat different cards from the same negative, I now have a large enough collection to make some interesting (at least to me) connections between them. In that way I bring you today’s acquisition, a card recently purchased from England, the locus primary for these photos.
Today the breaking news is that this card, which was never sent, was taken in Margate, England, a summer resort town there. As you can see, it is the kissing cousin of another postcard in my collection, purchased back in 2022 and posted about at that time. That post can be read here. Ironically I evidently paid a lot for that card and this one was a bit of a steal. (It averages out I find and try to be philosophical about it.) Interesting to note that, like the one last week, the card above was unusual in that it came via a US dealer. It was identified with Margate on the back.
Magnificent Kim Deitch original valentine depicting Margate. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.
Margate! Where you could also have your photo taken on a giant black cat chair, was a swinging summer resort if having your photo taken on the beach was part of a good time. It lives in my imagination and Kim has brought it to life in these drawings he has done for me. Read about those here.
Kim Deitch original drawing, valentine from this year. Proudly in the Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.
These two cards share the singular vision of this photographer who liked to blur his (or her) background, bringing just the Felix and child into focus. The children are also remarkably similar, but a careful look shows that it does not seem to be the same day and the negative numbers are far apart as well. Still, this cheerful little boy and the sad small girl could easily be related.
I have more, different Felix treats in store although Kim and I are heading out for a much belated birthday celebration for me which includes a postcard show I haven’t been to since before Covid so who knows what else might lurk there!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: There are a handful of traditions here at Deitch Studio and Pam’s Pictorama that we hold dear and none is so anticipated and celebrated than the annual Valentine Kim makes for me. A tradition that reaches back to our first year together (now a few decades back), today’s is an entry in a long line of wonderful drawings, all which have depicted me and illustrated my interests over the decades and placing me at the heart of my own Catland. (This includes frequent allusions to me as the jolly and of course benign ruler of the land, Queen of Catland. A few examples can be found here, here and here and other pictures below.)
A February 2020 edition. This too could be Margate! Pams-Pictorama.com collection.
This year is very special however. The idea grew out of a recent post some of you may remember devoted to review the splendid new biography of Louis Wain, Catland, which can be read here. Kim has brought to life my suggestion that there was a moment when Louis Wain and T.S. Eliot were living on different sides of the same beachside community, Margate, where I have noted, many people had photo postcards made posing with a splendid giant Felix the cat doll. (Some of those posts can be found here and here.)
Pams-Pictorama.com collection.
Kim has brought all these elements together. Rather than running into each other and meeting TS and Louis are both so wrapped up in their own views of the world they never see each other – although Felix loitering outside the photo studio arguably sees them both. They are both witnessing a (real) catburgler in action – for Eliot it inspires the poem Macvity the Mystery Cat (who appears to be reading about his exploits at the bottom) while Wain wanders off into a world of anthropomorphic kits which, around the perimeter of the picture range from jaunty to disintegrating, and forming Cubist cat delights.
A Margate Felix. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.
Louis is painting the very scene, or a variation on it, while some of his humanoid cats enjoy exploits swimming and strolling just out of the frame. Big white kitties standing on their hindlegs point at the scene with even more imaginative cats portraits above them. T.S. Eliot recovering from a nervous breakdown, meeting Louis Wain drifting off into his own world of ever morphing felines.
In some ways, this is the perfect melding of worlds, Wain’s, Eliot’s, mine and Kim’s. Bravo yet again my beloved Mr. Deitch!
T.S. Eliot 1888 - 1965
Macavity: The Mystery Cat (1939) Macavity’s a Mystery Cat: he’s called the Hidden Paw — For he’s the master criminal who can defy the Law. He’s the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad’s despair: For when they reach the scene of crime — Macavity’s not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity, He’s broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity. His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare, And when you reach the scene of crime - Macavity’s not there! You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air - But I tell you once and once again, Macavity’s not there!
Macavity’s a ginger cat, he’s very tall and thin; You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in. His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed; His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed. He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake; And when you think he’s half asleep, he’s always wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity, For he’s a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity. You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square - But when a crime’s discovered, then Macavity’s not there!
He’s outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.) And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard’s. And when the larder’s looted, or the jewel-case is rifled, Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke’s been stifled, Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair - Ay, there’s the wonder of the thing! Macavity’s not there!
And when the Foreign Office find a Treaty’s gone astray, Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way, There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair - But it’s useless to investigate - Macavity’s not there! And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say: ‘It must have been Macavity!’ - but he’s a mile away. You’ll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs, Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity, There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity. He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare: At whatever time the deed took place - MACAVITY WASN’T THERE! And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known (I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone) Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: I find it very hard to resist a good vintage tin box; I just cannot. They immediately stir my imagination and I am sure I have a million uses for them. Generally this is true as well, although occasionally one doesn’t take for some reason. I purchased this one at the antiques mall in NJ thinking it would go to my new office and it may still, although as I settle into that space I am still figuring out surface area and needs.
I have another, much larger, version of this tin which is kept in the bedroom in NJ, also pristine, long and narrow, housing night table odds and ends and keeping them away from prying pussycat paws – who would take great joy in gently knocking each thing onto the floor while I try to sleep. Maybe a future post on that tin, but it does make me reflect on the pristine condition of these crayon boxes in particular. Perhaps the dustless as advertised meant nice clean tins.
View from the new office.
I wonder if this tin contained crayons such as the much beloved Crayolas of my childhood or if this was a tin for something more like pastels or chalk. An-du-septic makes me think more like pastels or chalks. This was a term coined by Binney & Smith, the forefathers of Crayola in about 1902. It seems to sort of mean sort of anti-dust and clean.
The tin boasts, Gold Medal Crayons for Every Use as part of its trademark on the top. They liked their patent and trade mark info at Crayola and the side is devoted to it further with a Patent notice and Where color is required use a gold medal product.
In addition to identifying Binney & Smith Co. New York and it says one gross which seems like a heck of a lot as this box only measures about 3″x5″and 4″ deep.
I am a child of the large yellow and green Crayola era, the one with the built in sharpener. Despite a world of color choices there were always the ones the wore down quickest and those which sat largely little used. Not all crayons applied to paper equally well and even as a kid you also figure those things out. The sort of neon colors intrigued but could best only be used for highlighting. Gold and silver fascinated as well, but were only somewhat useful. I am having trouble remembering all the colors I thought were troublesome, but things like red and hot pink wore down quickly. Always very fond of a sort of aqua blue and was pretty popular.
This seems like the large flat box I received at one point.
As I write this Kim is at his desk, hard at work on my Valentine’s Day picture. (Prior Kim Valentine’s Day works can be found featured in posts here, here and here. It is an annual tradition that goes back many years to when we first started dating. Watch for that reveal in February!) He is using colored pencil and somewhat coincidentally, was talking about how much he disliked crayons even as a child because they never went on with any consistency. Even as a tiny tot this irritated the nascent Kim Deitch as artist! I know what he means though – you could layer on to get some consistency. (In the photos above taken on his desk you can see the colored pencils in use ready and waiting.)
For all of that, my research pretty much confirms that this box housed chalk sticks and that this particular box probably dates from about 1935.
At some point in my childhood someone gave me a much larger flat box of crayons which I have not seen before or since, about the size of a gameboard. It had more crayons and a sharpener within. I don’t believe it caught on however. I was fascinated to find the box, above, online when I looked.
The very traditional box of which I had many.
Meanwhile, Cray-pas were another whole kettle of fish and were almost too juicy to control. And I didn’t have the kind of childhood where there were opportunities to use chalk on a sidewalk or other pavement. I have documented some of the chalk drawings I used to encounter in the park running and so we know that chalk use is alive and well today by kids.
Where this tin ends up and what it holds remains to be seen. If you just have to have one you easily can – they are very available, many quite clean like this one, on various sites including eBay. I think I am still feeling it for my desk at work. Enjoy it for what it is – a pristine reminder of a beloved childhood favorite.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today is the great Deitch Studio holiday card reveal! Apologies up front to those of you who are still waiting for your card in the mail (um, most of you) as we are way behind schedule this year. I am the keeper of the holiday card schedule and I take full responsibility! I know folks who like to have the surprise of theirs in hand before the online reveal. Alas, Blackie’s unscheduled Thanksgiving trip to the kitty ER (that cat tale can be found here) had a ripple effect and our cards were not in hand until earlier this week. Most of your cards are being launched from the Fair Have post office on Monday – think of them as New Year’s cards this year!
Sadly the celluloid Santa did not make the trip to NJ unscathed! Bought these in NYC and packed with extraordinary care, alas!
Speaking of Blackie – he ran us a merry chase yesterday trying to get him packed in his carrier for the early morning trip to NJ. He wedged himself in a tiny space underneath our futon which defies grabbing him without removing the mattress from the bed entirely. Nonetheless, we eventually got him and arrived here mostly intact early yesterday and devoted most of the day to addressing those cards!
Onto the card! This is a sort of sequel to last year’s card. Some think it achieves more highly, others favor card number one. For my part I am pleased with my likenesses of the various cats. Peaches and Gus in particular, but all of them are pretty good. Beau and Blackie are in costume – reindeer and Santa respectively. Everyone else lightly accessorized at best.
My original pencil.
It is the living room of the house here in New Jersey. There is a fireplace here, although I doubt it will return to being wood burning in my lifetime. (An absurd amount of work needs to be done to the inside of the chimney to make it safe – something about lining the inside with ceramic.) I have toyed with a gas or electric insert for it – maybe next year.
Among the sale items at Lowe’s – these were about $3.50 a box!
For those of you who are new to the card tradition, each year Kim and I collaborate on a Christmas card. It has evolved into my drawing it in pencil and then him inking it. I offer the original drawing for consideration. For those of you who missed it last year or want to compare and contrast, the ’23 card post can be found here and the card is below. The post can be found here.
The 2023 card.
Meanwhile, thus far the house is only decorated with this wreath on the front door. However, yesterday on a trip to Lowe’s to procure something to melt the ice on the front steps, I discovered boxes of old-fashioned, large colored lights on sale, 75% off – meaning each box was about $3.50. (Those inclined can probably still score these online.) Well, while I had not considered lights for the house or yard I immediately purchased several boxes and an extension cord. I also bought jolly large ornaments which I will hang from a light post out front.
Good buy on over-sized break proof ornaments for outside.
I am hoping we can wander over to the Red Bank Antiques Annex and look for a nice Santa for the mantel so with me luck! I will post an update here and on Instagram if I find one!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: The season is suddenly tipping hard in the direction of the holidays and winter. Last night I ordered a new long down jacket online – at the end of last winter the zipper finally broke one I had been wearing happily for decades. (My mother gave it to me so many years ago – it might predate my meeting Kim!) While perhaps not the most stylish of long down coats it was thick and toasty warm. I have tried new zippers on down coats before and for some reason they are especially recalcitrant however.
My office these days, and the hospital, are along the East River, overlooking the FDR highway. The wind and water are always worse there than anywhere else, even our apartment building which is only one block west. While walking a half hour to and from work is lovely in some ways, come the middle of the winter it will be less charming. I was a bit ill prepared last year when I started in January and am tackling the impending winter pro-actively this year – boots and coats.
An earlier leaf incarnation I snapped a pic of.
Thanksgiving is late this year and in my mind I kept pushing it forward until now suddenly it is upon us. I am using the few days to go to New Jersey (and visit the Jersey kitties) and plant some spring bulbs. We are experiencing a well publicized drought right now so I am concerned that the ground will be as hard as a rock when I try however. Nonetheless, the thought of tulips and other flowers blooming in the spring will drive me forward. Time to take the dahlias in and wrap them up in the chilly garage for the duration of the winter. The hibiscus and a small olive tree (seen below still out on the deck here) are already living their winter life in the kitchen there although I understand that the cats are too interested in them and I think they need to relocate to the bedroom.
Late summer and fall dahlias are more than worth the effort to store them over the winter.
Work and other commitments have kept me from trips I had hoped to make there in November so this week will be the first time I am there in quite a while. I am looking forward to the very last of the tomatoes and a solitary cucumber that is being saved for me.
Back in October I decorated the front stoop with some warty pumpkins – I love them! They are appropriate through November and until it is time to add a wreath to the door and some swags of greens to the railings.
While I am missing access to the Jersey late autumn, Kim has supplied me with a mini-fall here in the apartment. These gourds came from the local grocery and are as charmingly wart filled and interesting as you could ask for. Like mini-pumpkins, they perch (and are occasionally buried by paper) on my desk, little happy harbingers of the season.
Kim has followed that up with an assortment of fall leaves which have started appearing. Not surprisingly, the man has a great eye for leaves. Their passing extraordinary colors attract him and he has collected and attempted to save them (largely unsuccessfully) for years. We tried pressing, the microwave and just letting them sit. He has put them under the plexi on top of his desk. This year he has delivered them to my desk and I have been enjoying the somewhat fragile random harvest of them and they are the season to me this year.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: The other evening I was meeting a former colleague and we were discussing the shifting sands of the office place – he who now works entirely remotely for a national not-for-profit and I am who am still adjusting to life at an animal hospital where many things are different. The conversation somehow turned first to mail (I am struggling with the local post office) and then to handwriting. I told him that when I worked at the Met I handwrote many notes and that I hoped over time that when people saw the envelope they would recognize my handwriting immediately.
The verso of a postcard from a prior post – sometimes the writing is half the fun, other times indecipherable.
Even less than a decade ago mail was a much bigger part of my job. This area in fundraising has had a continued contraction and, while I am far from an expert, I am struggling to find its place at work as older supporters still like it but it is expensive and you can lose money. Direct mail aside, my days at the Met were packed with notes written – a constantly dwindling pile of cards atop my desk for notes to attach to things, my business card and stacks of cards from the museum’s shop which I worked my way through with birthday wishes and other occasions. For years all of our invitations were handwritten and stamped. We did them at home and were paid by the piece – I helped pay for my trip to Tibet by addressing envelopes when we opened the new Asian Art Wing there.
At the Met we had a mailroom which collected our piles of mail and delivered ours to our office. I have learned over time that this is a luxury in offices.
Our Top Dog Gala invitation this year. We are celebrating the work of the police dogs and this handsome German Shephard is representing for it.Invitations have printed envelopes now.
At Jazz I immediately noticed fewer written missives, as well as less time on the telephone – everything was pretty much online and email including invitations. If not a dedicated mailroom, an office manager did distribute mail and bring it to the post office daily. Covid interrupted even that and mail stilled to a full stop and barely ground back into use in the post-Covid work world.
My office today slots mail into boxes in the main hospital building which we try to pick up daily. Somehow I have never gotten the swing of mail pick up there (due to construction it moves around) and we tend to stamp and mail things from public boxes or a trip to the post office. It isn’t true but sometimes I feel like the only person who produces mail beyond the occasional mailing of things like Gala invitations.
Very recognizable Louis Wain signature as per yesterday’s post!
However, what we really touched on the other night and what has stayed in my mind since is the memory of handwriting I have known. I recently had to go through check registers of my mom’s for tax purposes and spending the day immersed in her (slowly deteriorating) handwriting made her and that final year together very real again.
I have only a few samples of my sister’s writing, although it was a neat distinctive cursive I would recognize anywhere – she had the habit of looping the bottom of her capital L’s backward as part of her signature. I never asked her about that.
I saw less of my father’s handwriting than other family members, but certainly would recognize his signature. Somewhere I have a few letters from him, written while he covered the Olympics in Sarajevo. Meanwhile my maternal grandmother had a round script that would come with birthday cards, some of which I still have.
Autographed books, always with a picture, by Kim here and below.
There are those folks whose handwriting I realize I do not know, or only have an inkling of, like my father’s parents who died when I was fairly young. (To my brother Edward, I am realizing that we never correspond with handwritten notes. I don’t really know yours although maybe I would recognize it if I saw it?) I have friends whose handwriting I can see in my mind – some former colleagues and others like my friend Suzanne who is an artist and whose very round writing is distinctive in my mind’s eye.
Kim’s handwriting and his signature are of course well known and very recognizable. Legibility in his line of work is essential. He eschews my cursive as hard to read. (There was a time when I was younger when I corresponding in a tiny neat print, but I found it labor intensive for my needs.) Recent trouble accurately reading numbers people have written on things has reminded us of the importance of neatness – not just for cartoonists, but for all of us. After all, first and foremost, it is a form of communication.
One of the nice things about living with Kim is he continues to receive (and send of course) letters and packages in the mail. We get more real mail than most folks.
I especially like this one for Shroud for Waldo!
When I was in college I remember a professor at the beginning of a course talking about how handwriting was a mark system like any other, one we use constantly and defines us. (She also pointed out that how we dress is another visual vocabulary all our own and I think of that sometimes when I put on make-up which in some ways is the closest I get to painting these days.) However, handwriting is the one that is intimately tied to who we are and is our very own – obviously like finger prints our signature can be used to identify us in a court of law; it is that singular.
Of those folks like my mother, father and sister who are now lost to me the thought of their writing, coming across it or remembering it, makes me miss them all the more. However, it is a comforting odd bit of us that we keep, thoughtfully or unconsciously, and remains in the world long after we are gone.
Pam's Pictorama 