Saturday, January 23, 2010

A Catmas Celebration



















As the 18th century is sometimes called "the long 18th century," so our Catmas celebration was extra long. It began on December 10, when guests were invited to a Caviar and Champagne Party to celebrate the first anniversary of Cat Adoption Day.


In honor of which, this post may be dedicated to the Egyptian Goddess Bastet, whose tomb was just unearthed in Alexandria.














http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2010/01/photogalleries/100121-cat-temple-egypt-pictures/#025655_600x450.jpg

"In addition to being the cat goddess, this is also the god of joy that will make you happy."


Now (to resume my story), here is Pindar, still in jail, a nameless four month old Bengal Tabby kitten with a severe upper respiratory infection, on the day she became a Cat-Birchall (as they're listed in the vet's files).




















A year later, the three sleek, fat, healthy, satisfied moggies, Pindar (Pindy), Catullus (Tully), and Martial the Magnificent Marshmallow Marshwiggle (Marshy) were turning their little noses up at the caviar we served them. Our guests didn't. Here are pictures of the festivities.


















Three Birchalls (Peter, me and Paul) and three Cat-Birchalls. It took an entire year to get a picture of the six of us all together. (There were wiggle problems.)

































Martial's opinion of caviar is evident





















Herbert meets Martial





















We were all tired




















This was a hard act to follow, but we decided that Christmas would be Catmas. Friends complained that their cats ripped apart their Christmas trees, but that sounded like an excellent present for the cats. Being indoor cats, what would they love more than a tree to call their own, to climb on and scratch and bite and destroy? So we bought a smallish one home, but to our disappointment, they were singularly unimpressed.

























Ah, well, we thought, when we decorate the tree, then they'll have the fun of tearing down the ornaments! Accordingly, we decorated the Catmas tree with cat toys. But the more heavily ornamented it got, the less interest they displayed. Our friend Pam gave each cat her own, individually embroidered, gorgeous stocking, and we hung them up for the cats, who didn't take notices. Here are the stockings.

























Never mind, I said, we will stuff them with little jingly balls and things! They love little jingly balls, and it will be so funny to see them scoop out their presents with their paws and bat them around. So we filled the stockings, placed the cats in front of them, and...nothing. Nothing except that we've been treading on little smashed plastic jingly balls underfoot ever since.



























But in the end, even though the cats' Catmas joy did not come up to expectations, they did enjoy the tree, in their quiet furry fashion. Underneath the tree was a very good place to hide, and the spectacle of cats lounging like little luxurious Sultanas, on their bed of gifts, was refreshing to our eyes, at least.

At New Year's, Paul and I went to Sequoia and saw some snow, leaving the cats with Peter.






























I will close with a few portraits of the cats.


Catullus






















Martial





















Pindar






























And this is our Christmas card. It was a happy Catmas, and I hope you had one too!

Monday, October 12, 2009

Grand Opening: Goodbye, Novel; Hello 212 Pier




















Back where we belong
























Today was the opening - called a "soft" opening, as everything wasn't completely finished yet, but by any description, it was memorable, and there was much wonder and rejoicing. The Novel Cafe, which closed last month, has opened with new owners. The beloved bookstore/coffeehouse where we have sat, worked, read, written, relaxed, listened to Patsy Cline ("After Midnight") and Tom Waits ("You're Innocent when you Dream"), where we really lived for eighteen years, is now transformed into 212 Pier. This transformation, anxiously anticipated by an entire community, has been accomplished with such painstaking care, taste, love, and respect, as to seem almost a work of alchemy. The beloved old cafe, run down and seedy in recent years, is reborn, a place of beauty!



















The food is better




















The customers are the same



























The new owners consulted all us "regulars," and evidence that they listened and took our advice is visible everywhere. For example, when the old owners removed the wooden counter where I sat every night for so many years, the new brooms, Guru and Jonathan, promised they'd build me a new one. Good as their word, they did (it is now called the Birchall/Ferruggia Counter, as Joe also likes to sit there), but just a couple of days ago I tested it out and it was too high to comfortably use a laptop. It had already been bolted into the floor, but Guru merely shrugged and said, "Doesn't matter. We'll fix it." And they did!






















Night crowd: Mike, Peter, Bill, Don, Martha

The beauty is in the details. The Novel originated as a bookstore, founded by bookseller Richard Karno in about 1990, and for some years it was a very beautiful place. But it got very run down, and in the end the books were just sloppy toss-outs in no particular order. Now, Rocco, who owns the lovely little bookshop Angel City a couple of doors down, has taken over the books, and even though they're not all on the shelves yet, the arrangement is intelligent, meticulous, scholarly, attractive. The old Novel always had paintings on the walls; the new show is stunning. The old Novel had pretty mediocre coffee, which we drank out of loyalty; 212 uses better beans and the cappuccino is more potable. Evidence is everywhere that the two young men who did the job not only love the place as so many hundreds of people do, but they have the sensitivity and practical intelligence to carry out their faithful yet transformative plans. Well done, guys!

One of the nicest things about today was watching as all the regulars wandered in, one by one. The looks on their faces were lovely, as they saw the refreshed, revivified place for the first time - and one and all realized that the good old Novel hadn't gone, but it was clean and lovely and reborn. There were a lot of smiles. How often are you given a gift that's so much better than you expected?

I've scanned some pictures of my family and friends over the years at the "old" Novel, below.




















Early days, around 1991-2





























Hat phase



























Bead phase


















Peter, Andy Klein, and me. We bought the painting of Peter, which hangs in my study at home!





















Christmas, 2008