Category Archives: Transitions

A Century, or the Pinky Ring Club, Part 2

It’s my dad’s birthday today. He would’ve been 100 years old: a century. And so it feels especially fitting tonight to make a celebratory gin & tonic and a Porterhouse steak, which, when asked, he’d tell you was his favorite meal, but truth be told, Dad was always content with whatever was put in front of him. Be that as it may, to have Seth fire up the grill tonight is, I think, a good idea, in honor of Dad and this milestone year.

As I type this, I’m also wearing Dad’s pinky ring, the one that has his initials, JC, encased in diamonds. Same initials as mine, and though I am so not a pinky ring kind of guy, this, too, feels right tonight. It’s flashy, sparkly, a bit like my Dad, who, though he did not like to call attention to himself, used a pseudonym for wait times in restaurants (John Monte) and who did love himself some bling on his fingers. When he bought himself that pinky ring, Dad drove a 1960s Cadillac and he liked the finer things in life, as he always did––things he worked hard to attain. He was of the Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra age, and he would have fit in nicely shooting pool with them wearing this ring. I wore it at his funeral in 2017. I wish I could remember which New York cousin it was of mine who I think was wearing his own dad’s pinky ring then, too, and who said we were all members of the Pinky Ring Club now. This is all right by me.

I don’t know what Frank or Deano would have thought of me wearing this ring, but I imagine John Monte wearing it, leaning over the billiard table to get the eight ball in the far left pocket, the sparkle of the diamonds catching the light. The ice in Dean Martin’s glass would clink as he’d say, “Johnny: Nice ring.” And then he’d wonder what the C was for.

Happy Birthday, Dad. We all love you and miss you something crazy.

 

 

SHOP HAPPENINGS
Our series of early summer workshops begins next Sunday. First up is Botanical Monotypes with instructor Kim Spivey on Sunday, May 24 (2 seats left); then Case Bound Journal, a bookbinding workshop that I’m teaching, is on Sunday, June 7 (3 seats left); followed by our next Convivio Cookery workshop: Mambricoli, on Saturday, June 13 (5 seats left). Mambricoli! Another of Dad’s favorite meals.

The shop will be open next Sunday, too, during the Botanical Monotypes workshop and after it, until 4 PM. That’s Sunday, May 24. Come see us!

 

Sleepy Orange Cat Pictures

It was September 3, 2005––the Saturday of Labor Day Weekend––when Seth and I first met Haden, the Convivio Shop Cat. She was called Cheyenne when we first met, a name that never felt quite right for our feisty tomboy kitty, and eventually we named her after our Haden mango tree, since their colors were so similar. Most often, we just called her Kitty. She stole our hearts from the start and was the perfect cat for us, brimming with personality, and definitely of above average intelligence. She would always hang around while I was printing at the press, especially, it seemed, for our annual Copperman’s Day print. Though we did not want to, we had to say goodbye last year, on the 15th of September (a date I am keenly aware of as it approaches again this year). Seth and I, we still are lost without her, and still a bit heartbroken.

Last week, I found a few old unlinked pages from an earlier incarnation of our Convivio Bookworks website. One of them is titled Sleepy Orange Cat Pictures. We built the page in 2006. If you have a kitty you love, or if you miss a kitty that’s no longer with you, or if you just like pictures of sleepy kitties… we invite you to get to know our Haden a bit better. She is very young in these pictures; just a year or so old.

Gosh we miss that cat.

 

Count Your Blessings While You May

Last week, in the late evening quiet of Wednesday night, I finished the final print run of our 2024 Copperman’s Day print. This year’s print is inspired by a lovely concert recorded for the CBC on December 2, 1993, at the Glenn Gould Theatre in Toronto, featuring vocalists Holly Cole, Rebecca Jenkins, Mary Margaret O’Hara, Jane Siberry, and Victoria Williams in an ensemble setting accompanied by Tim Ray on piano. The concert recording takes its name from the opening song: “Count Your Blessings,” which is something we try our best to remember to do. There are days, of course, when we forget this simple act, but coming back to counting our blessings is always the goal.

Copperman’s Day, for us, is an extension of the Christmas season, falling as it does on the First Monday after Epiphany, and Christmas 2023 was a Christmas where we keenly felt the absence of Haden, the Convivio Shopcat. She’d been with us since Labor Day Weekend, 2005, and on the 15th of September, 2023, we had to say our goodbyes. All these weeks and months later, we still miss her terribly. 18 years is a long time, and yet still not long enough. “Count your blessings” were words that went along with Haden. We appreciated every moment we had with her, and Christmas this year has been a bit, or a lot, melancholy, without her striped orange presence. She seemed to love Christmas as much as we do: she loved the tree, she loved perching atop the presents, and she even seemed to love the music (except, perhaps, the CD of Scandinavian and Siberian music we play each Midwinter solstice night… the stomping and whooping would make Haden’s ears twitch a lot and we could often discern a bit of a scowl on her face as the music filled her house).

The “Count Your Blessings” CD was one she liked, and so it felt only right to make this our Copperman’s Day print. The song was written by Edith Temple and Richard Morgan in 1946, and these are the particular lyrics by Edith Temple that pull at the heartstrings each time I hear them:

Count your blessings while you may, For we are here, with little time to stay.

We’ve dedicated this year’s print to our beloved little pal, Haden, who would visit me each time I printed in the print shop, just to see what was going on, or to let me know it was time to eat, as was the case here, when she came to visit me whilst I printed the Copperman’s Day print for 2023:

More than once, she’d get into the ink on the press: sometimes subtly––like, we’d look at her and think, “She looks different today,” and then one of us would realize there was a faint streak of darkness on her orange fur, where, in hindsight, she had obviously passed a little too closely to the inked rollers (inked most likely with black) while I was not in attendance at the press. And then there was the time I was printing a project that required magenta ink, and I had cleaned everything just so at the end of the day and followed all post-press procedures to the T… except for one thing: I had failed to secure the lid firmly on the can of Van Son Rubber Base ink. It was during the overnight hours when Haden often did her explorations of the house, and that night, she managed to tip over the can of ink and the lid fell off and I awoke the next morning to a mostly magenta cat and to a trail of magenta kitty paw prints in every room of the house. This particular adventure required a trip to the emergency vet but all is well that ends well, right? Still to this day, ten years later, I find wisps of magenta on the maple doors of the kitchen cabinets, on the terra cotta tiles in the pantry, on the old oak floor boards in the living room. But now, every one of those magenta marks is a blessing I count, a reminder of our pal who has left a huge hole in our hearts with her absence.

As for Copperman’s Day: it is an old Dutch printer’s holiday, falling on the First Monday after Epiphany each January. It was traditional on this day for printers’ apprentices in the Netherlands to receive the day off to work on their own projects––usually small printed keepsakes that they’d sell for a copper.

And as for Seth and me: we do the best we can each day. Christmas was just not the same without Haden. I know she wouldn’t want it this way, but there was much less music in the house, and what little there was was very contemplative. Lots of piano (Jacqueline Schwab), lots of nuns (The Benedictines of Mary Queen of Apostles), and not a whole lot of Revels. We just didn’t have it in us. And just once: Holly Cole, Rebecca Jenkins, Mary Margaret O’Hara, Jane Siberry, and Victoria Williams, accompanied by Tim Ray on piano, singing “Count Your Blessings.”

N.B.: Clicking on each photo in this post makes the images larger (which is the case with all Convivio Book of Days chapters), so you may get a better view.

 

ONLINE SPECIALS: A COPPERMAN’S DAY SPECIAL, PLUS SHOP OUR VALENTINE SALE!
You’ll find this newest Copperman’s Day print and all our Copperman’s Day prints now at our our online catalog when you CLICK HERE. Order 5 or more of any of our mini prints (Copperman’s Day prints, B Mine Valentines, and our famous Keep Lake Worth Quirky prints) and use the code COPPERMAN when you check out; we’ll take $5 off your order to help balance out our flat rate domestic shipping charge of $9.50.

If you’re doing more serious shopping (and we do have lots to offer if you are), you may instead use discount code LOVEHANDMADE to save $10 on your $85 purchase, plus get free domestic shipping, too. That’s a total savings of $19.50. Spend less than $85 and our flat rate shipping fee of $9.50 applies. Newest arrivals: Letterpress printed Valentine cards in the Valentine section, and check our Specialty Foods section for some incredibly delicious chocolate we found from Iceland, including a particularly Icelandic blend of milk chocolate and licorice. If you love both these things, well… Icelanders long ago discovered that covering black licorice in milk chocolate, then dusting the result in licorice powder, is just amazing. (Trust me: we’re on our third bag so far.)  CLICK HERE to shop; you know we appreciate your support immensely. (We count you amongst our blessings, too.)