snow

Gusty

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I plucked this one out of the Pictorama library (aka pile on my desk) today as it is quickly turning wintery and windy here in New York City. I itch to say it is premature, however late November is technically more than fair game. We saw some snow the other day – for about 20 minutes it was snow globe shaken glory out the window. It ended and turned sunny by the time Kim and I exited for our morning walk – he walks me part of the way to my office most days, a new practice I find very enjoyable.

I have not yet fetched the down jackets from their basement lair. Instead I have been layering bits and pieces on and topping with a big scarf. (I displayed said scarf – and gloves! – in my cat clothing mania post last week which you can find here if you missed it.) I am heading to the west side to a dinner party tonight so I think I have put it off long enough and I need to spring it today and let them commence their winter service.

I have purchased a warm black wool hat which I have worn and already lost and found and lost again. I think I need to purchase my hats in brighter colors perhaps, making them harder to loose. Anyway, I believe it to still be in this very small apartment so it should turn up. I am eyeing my boots much earlier in the year than usual, more for warmth than for wet.

A recent attempt to provide the cats with a heated bed has been somewhat unsuccessful. Blackie prefers my spot on the bed (preferably slipping into it while still warm from me in the morning). Cookie will sleep in the bed – however with the heat off and a towel lining it so it doesn’t smell like whatever it smells like which they have indicated stinks and will not do.

Blackie this very morning, having hopped into my spot immediately upon my vacating it. In fact, truth is he sat on top of me, willing me to get up!

Meanwhile, today’s card is a Maurice Boulanger design, A Gusty corner in Catland. It was sent on March 25, 1904 from Newcastle-on-Tyne to Miss L. Poppleton, 19 Henry Street, Sheildfield. So I think it was a card appropriate to the weather there and then. The note on the back simply says, Dear Lizzie, Do not come tonight as I have to go straight home. come in on Wednesday if possible. Nellie XXXXX. Amazing to think of a time when there were enough mail deliveries in a day that you could send such a note with the expectation it would get there in time! It was the text of its day.

I have written about Boulanger before (prior posts can be found here and here) as he along with Manzer (a choice example here) were the worshippers at the Wain alter. In reality Boulanger was a contemporary of Wain and definitely working the same side of the street with his jolly anthropomorphic kits, perhaps a bit less maniacal than Louis Wain’s. (As I say that I realize that I have some pretty whacky examples coming up for future posts however. He can get his crazy on too.) Alongside Wain he rose to prominence in the early aughts of the 20th century.

This card utilizes just black and white (and therefore gray) in the printing. Kim and I were just talking the other day about how it wasn’t that long ago that any color, let alone full color, printing was substantially more expensive. (I always have to remind myself when printing things at work that this is no really longer true.) So it was a clever design for a slightly less expensive line of cards is my thought.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Above is another Boulanger from my collection utilizing only black and white. The post for this New Year’s greeting can be read here. Perhaps the same park scene but in full blown, snowy winter? No human sartorial splendor for these felines – they are just in their fur (hope it is warm enough) and only one bow between the three for decorative effect.

This quartet of kitties was out for a stroll in some sartorial splendor when the wind whipped up tossing hats and skirts astray! A monocle goes flying and we are moments from an accident as this puss also chases his hat while stepping carelessly off a curb. The gentlemen cats in question both sport top hats and while the little girl’s is well secured, moma kitty fears that her chapeau will take flight as well. Interesting that the two men cats have bushy and evident tails (Blackie just puffed his up this morning when a pile of papers fell under Kim’s desk – quite a look!) and the girls here keep their under their ample frocks.

The scene reminds me of Central Park but we will suppose a park in France or Britain was the likely origin. (The card was printed in Austria but the copyright language all in English so I am thinking a British product.)

The word on the street is that it is a cold and snowy winter ahead here in the Northeast of the United States. I have a stock of wintery cards ahead so I guess I say let it snow!

“Snow Time” ’18

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I am always very pleased when the gift of a great photo for the Pictorama library falls into my mitts and this year it came via a holiday card from our friend in Texas known here by the moniker of @curiositiesantique, aka Sandi Outland who works there. (This doesn’t happen often, a photo coming to me this way, however I do remember recently posting about a splendid photo postcard I found in my pile which turned out to be sent to Kim by Robert Crumb. Really would have picked that photo myself. That post can be found here.)

Sandi and I had a wonderful, lengthy holiday DM exchange over antique angry snowmen (photos, cards and items) which actually lead to last week’s kid in a snowman costume post which can be found here. She collects deeply in this area and recently sent a photo of her mantle, piled high with grumpy snowman goodness. I may not be able to contain myself and maybe the house in Jersey will be decorated in grumpy snowmen next holiday season. We shall see. Meanwhile, I am trying to tempt her into coming up for a Brimfield fiesta with me. (Talk about larks! More to come on that and future post I hope.)

This was the book we were discussing. Kim bought it for me at a con we were at a few months back and Bob Eckstein was there selling them!

While I have never had the chance to visit Dallas and enjoy an in-person peruse of the physical store I have followed their Instagram account now for many years. The shop is owned by Jason Cohen, and I have chatted with Jason and Sandi on the phone over numerous purchases. In addition to what catches my eye on my the feed, they keep an eagle eye out for my cat related interests, and as a result a jolly box arrives from them periodically. (Some of their goodies can also be found online here. Right now there’s a bronze statue of greyhounds romping and a pirate bank, both which I find very tempting in different ways. See below.)

Some of Sandi’s collection.
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Sadly the photo did suffer a small bend in transit, but in no way does that diminish its appeal. Someone has applied the tiniest bit of sparkle along the line where the snow meets the building, on the bottom of the one girl’s shoe and coat and also and under the sled. (The one under her foot leaves me wondering if she is wearing skates or does it create that impression? Why would she be sitting there with skates on?)

Postcards from Sandi’s collection.

Of course it has all the elements you want from a snowy scene, they are bundled up in their winter best and they have this great little white dog perched on their wooden sled. They are clad in perky hats, heavy coats and scarves. Behind them is a back stair and a somewhat indistinct house. It is an old fashion typewriter that inscribed it at the bottom. The photo has been mounted on cardboard so I don’t know what the back is like and that cardboard mounted on the card stock. Sandi told me she had been saving it for me and I am most grateful.

My dad couldn’t have resisted this little bronze which makes me tempted to buy it!

If I were in New Jersey I might be able to dig out a photo of me and my sister in the snow with our dog and sled, circa 1968 or so. At the time we were in a house in a town called Englewood in north Jersey. It had a backyard I remember as huge, with a rock garden going up a hill. That incline was probably just enough for us on our version of a wooden sled which was the classic wood and red paint model of the day. We were stuffed into the snow suits of the day – amazing we could stand up and walk in them at all.

I really thought this was a cowboy at first and I would have really had to have it. Still, a pirate bank is very good...

Meanwhile, our German Shepard (Dutchess) shown in that photo loved to play in the snow with us. My father would make little snowballs and pitch them to her and she would leap up to grab them in her mouth – must have been cold! She was very young at the time though and my memory is that she was always up for any play with us kids outside, all seasons.

It’s a snowless, but gray January day here in Manhattan as I write this. However, contemplating all this fun in the snow has me considering braving for a run or at least a stroll later.

Snowy

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: It has been well publicized that New York City has been snowless (some might say snow free) for a 700 day streak which we just broke last week. There is (some) snow on the ground as I write. As a generally glass half full kind of girl I like snow and usually can immerse myself in the romance of it. It’s pretty. It covers the city in a temporary blanket of white, briefly hiding a multitude of sins. Of course on the other side you have to accept drippy messy days as it melts and a reality of black ice underfoot.

My first day of work was the snowy day and I have ended up wearing my snow boots to the job each day. This job and I have an odd track record for extreme weather as I interviewed during a historic rain which triggered mass flooding in the city. I’m not sure of what the broader implications are for the meteorological effects of my working at this animal hospital are going to be under the circumstances! Considering my commute is a walk a little more than a mile each way to and from work, weather is going to matter. (There is a pokey bus, but I am generally too impatient to wait for it.) This week’s snow was a mostly decorative not inhibitive one.

A bigger snow out our window from 2022.

In anticipation and celebration of impending snow I picked up this odd postcard. I have never seen a similar snowman costume and I wonder how long this kid, or any kid, was a willing participant. His hands are entirely covered in the cotton batting that makes his suit. The snowy batting gives him the requisite round head and suggests a rounded body, especially if you add in his arms. Those thorny looking sticks remind me of something Krampus carries. A crushed and not quite jaunty hat with a bird atop finishes the look.

The writing declares, Happy New Year! There is a sort of a full moon behind him with a few more birds atop it. If you look carefully you can see a dark line to define it was added and also that there is a white layer of snow gathered on top. Snowflakes in the form of white paint cover the surface as well, offering some depth to the very artificial scene.

Back of card.

This card was mailed on December 27, but the year is indistinct. It may be 1908. It is addressed in pencil on the back to, Miss Margaret Cosgrove, New Hampton, Orange Co. NY. The sender is harder to read, but is something along the lines of Bob Bruening Batt HH St. TA AEH. It is also marked, Soldiers Mail in the same hand and stamped As Censored and noted in a different hand, in pen, O.K. E.P. Woodard, 1st Lt. 21st F.A.(?) There is no personal note however.

While my first instinct is a childlike enthusiasm for the white stuff, it does impede my running and generally gums things up and slows them down. In New Jersey the driveway and sidewalk have to be cleared. Somehow the world no longer really stops for a snow day the way it did when you were a kid and school was called off. However, I will try to cultivate a cheerful attitude about it since I think we see more snow ahead here in New York City in the coming months.

Some Snow!

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Brrrr! This is the kind of snow you somehow imagine when you are a kid, but never really experience – at least most of us won’t anyway, global warming notwithstanding. I think every kid who has built a snow fort has dreamed of something as grand and massive as this. Bigger even than the igloo I always imagined building, but evidently quite secure since our four formidable ladies perch safely atop.

It is indeed unfortunate that there is no indication of where or exactly when this was taken and I can’t help but wonder. It is a photo postcard and there is nothing on the back. The clothes lead us to realize this was probably no later than the teens, a full century ago, the women above in full length dresses, thick warm black stockings on all. There are coats of the heaviest wools with trims and bits of fur. I am not positive, but this image may be populated entirely by women. There’s one figure, on the bottom, second from the right, which may be a young boy, but I cannot see well enough to declare.

I assume that the tunnel through was perhaps of necessity – a path through this extraordinary snow drift – but maybe it was also for fun. I do wonder how someone even managed to make that tunnel though – and where did the excess snow, no small amount, go? Is it just off camera?

As I write this we are commencing the earliest days of winter after a notably mild fall here in the Northeast. (And I for one am heading for Florida for work as I write this – I will be searching the closet for something to wear in 80 degree weather later this week.) The other morning, up very early, I was surprised to see about 20 minutes of hard, fluffy snow – the first of the season, to my knowledge anyway. It didn’t stick. Our extraordinary and notable weather events have been more of the hurricane nature this fall. However, one never knows with winter and weather. Perhaps this will be the year of a big one and we too will make strange burrows and pathways under fifteen and twenty foot drifts here in Central Park.

Esther and Houtas

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: A recent delving into and wading through old cat photos online has produced some unusual purchases in the form of mostly snap shots. I assumed that was what I was purchasing when I acquired this, but much to my surprise, although it had been pasted into an album, the black photo album paper has torn away on the back to reveal that this was indeed a photo postcard. It was never mailed and written in a neat inked hand on the back is, Esther & Houtas sitting on the wood pile. Ground is covered with snow. I went to the trouble of looking up the name Houtas. I do believe that is her name (it is neatly written) and was able to find some nodding acquaintance to it on the internet. I assume it refers to one of these girls – who I further assume are sisters – as opposed to that nice gray kitty one is holding.

This photo has a timeless quality, and it isn’t until we look closely at those wooly tights and button boots that we realize how old it probably is. Those matching, layered wool dresses and heavy tights look a bit itchy when we consider them seriously, but were probably just the thing for that cold day – no need for overcoats. These girls seem a bit mismatched as sisters, but my own sister and I did not look more alike than this – she of very curly hair and I of very straight.

I have no idea where this card is from or where it was taken, but this spare snowy landscape could stand in for my childhood in New Jersey. This big woodpile is more substantial than the one we generally had out back, although during the course of my childhood we always kept a sizable pile of logs. Much of the cord wood was purchased each fall, although some of it came from limbs that had been trimmed off of our own trees, or as the sad result of a tree that had reached the end of its life and had to be cut down. My mother was always very responsible about the trees and their well being. They were tended to by professionals no less than annually. I personally would have been reluctant to play on the woodpile however, as it was the likely home of mice and even the occasional water rat who wanted a pied-à-terre on dry land. Perhaps for that very reason it was something of a favorite spot for the cats. Although as I remember, some form of wild catnip also grew in the gravel driveway near the woodpile and our enormous cat Pumpkin used to go into rolls of ecstasy over it in the spring. That would have added to the appeal.

The house I grew up in had two enormous fireplaces although we generally only used the one downstairs in what we called the family room. If I ever buy a house a working fireplace will be a must. (I have met New Yorkers lucky enough to have functioning fireplaces in their apartments, but I am not the sort of person who lucks into outdoor space, fireplaces or rent controlled New York apartments. It think it is a skill you are born with, like the ability to hold your breath underwater for a long time or whistle well and on key.) I am endlessly fascinated by fireplaces and will do what I can to migrate to them at restaurants or bars this time of the year. I will settle for gas fires, although there’s nothing like real wood, with the smell, popping of sap, steaming of moisture and the sighing and rolling of disintegrating logs. Oh such bad news for the unsuspecting insects and spiders who took up residence in those logs!

My parents recently moved to a much smaller house, on a cute little patch of property one town over from where I grew up. The house does have a small fireplace, which works at least in theory. These days my mom and dad are too elderly to mess with a fire, even with fake, store bought logs. However, I just promised them the Christmas gift of an electric space heater that looks like a fireplace to ease the drafts in their new house. If I like it maybe I will find room for one here in our tiny New York abode as well.

 

Backyard

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I saw and bought this to ultimately give to a Jack Russell owning new colleague at work. I liked this little guy sporting this sort of homemade looking doggie garb. It is keeping him warm on this snowy day and he also wears a collar. Dogs rarely get center stage here at Pictorama. However, I grew up with dogs, some of you have read those stories, to the same degree as cats so it isn’t like I don’t like them. I do. I am sure if I didn’t live in a tiny studio apartment I would probably live with at least one. And although I have generally lived with medium and large dogs, I have over time developed a soft spot for small ones too. Jack Russell Terriers in particular seem like the right kind of lively canine companions – the kind of dog that likes having a job and takes it seriously. Bred for fox hunting I understand they are high energy and smart. According to the back of the photo, this fellow is Mickey II (I have a friend who has named a seemingly endless line of Poodles Pierre) at 10 weeks, and the photo was printed on December 6, 1937.

He appears to be perched on some sort of wooden storage container – for garbage cans perhaps? For some reason as I look at this photo today I get a yen for having a backyard. There doesn’t seem to be anything especially glorious about this one, but I am not sure it matters. I think any patch of outside you call your own is a special thing and something we unconsciously yearn for sometimes in the city. When you are a kid you learn every inch of it. The designated safe space to be sent out to inhabit when your parents were tired of you inside, or for some other reason felt like you should be “outside playing” it often fell to you to figure out how to activate that space. We didn’t have yards with swings or other features – in retrospect other than the river running behind it, the yards were somewhat barren growing up. I can still remember what they looked like though – the trees that we played under (none of them were climbable) and the docks with their dead fish smells – seagulls having smashed oyster shells on them heightening the familiar stink of seaweed and crab shells in a trap. Still, you always knew that life was teeming in the water just below the surface and just lying on the dock and watching the sea world below was a failsafe activity. We lived on the river in both houses I grew up in, but the one I knew best had a floating dock and the water was calmer. By that time we knew how to swim and my parents worried less when we spent time by the water.

It is only just now starting to grow chillier here in the Northeast, a fall which is being discussed for being more like extended summer this year. However, the yellow light tugs me back to my childhood as it does every year. First the light of September which reminds me of back-to-school from my earliest years – at least those are the ones that come to mind. The school smells of those hallways new to my nose which for some reason still plays over in my mind. But the light of October and early November make me think of playing in our backyard, even more than the long days of summer when I surely spent more time outside. This time of the year reminds me of being about twelve years old and just old enough to feel like I should be outside doing things. Still young enough that making forts and hideaways among the trees appealed and that’s what I remember.

This guy in someone’s backyard in 1937 makes me nostalgic for a backyard this morning. A place where you were out in the world and you could imagine all sorts of adventures, but you knew you were nonetheless home safe.

 

Snow Day

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Happy first snow in Manhattan! I’ve been saving this one for you!

Another area I have trailed off into a bit is photos of cats in snow. Those of us who have lived with cats in the suburbs or country know that they have mixed feelings about the stuff, at best. On one hand, they love to watch it fall! For apartment cats this is pretty much where it starts and ends – although I used to bring snowballs into the bathtub for my cat Otto who enjoyed them immensely. The world as a snow dome. Few things are funnier than watching a cat try to negotiate outside in the snow – especially deep snow. They can walk on it for a second before breaking through – which eventually leads to hopping until they get to a secure dry spot. It is worth noting that none of the cats pictured are actually touching any of that cold wet stuff.

The cyanotype is the photo I have owned the longest and, I assume, the oldest of the bunch. Like many other things I have shared, it lives in my office where I see it everyday. It is backed on a bit of cardboard so I am unsure if it has anything on the back. I believe it came via Canada. It takes a moment and then you realize that it is a photograph of a good size cat clinging onto the front of a very large man. Ouch! Good thing he has layers on. Probably turn-of-the-century, but the farm probably already looked that way for fifty years – and perhaps did for fifty more.

The featured photo is marked December ’49 and I love this kid with his double-fisted cat hold. He too is dressed for the snow around him (snow shovel seems to be right behind him) and a good looking barn behind him. Boy, do they have some snow! Look how high it is on the ladder in the back. He’s got two nice looking cats and they look pretty pleased with their perch on his lap. He’s a pretty old guy today – wonder how this photo got away from him.

Lastly we have my most recent snow cat purchase. It is marked on the back 1942 John Duke & Honey.  Cannot say if Duke is the cat (my vote) and Honey the dog or the other way around. These folks had some serious snow drifts as well, up to the second floor of the house. This kid has his arms around a contented, fat tabby – the dog (dogs really like snow) is guarding them in that proud way dogs do.

I don’t know why, but these photos remind me of my own childhood – which had what probably amounts to an average amount of snow.  Still, no one can resist the thrill of a snow day.