Pussycat pussycat

There was a side angle to yesterday’s Word Nymph post that caught the attention of a few readers who know my family. Several people commented on and off line about the fact that we are cleaning out our attic. One reader referenced our attic by its given name, the Pussycat Lounge.

I guess it’s time to come clean about our dirty little secret. Besides, we are going to have to do something about it eventually if we are ever to sell our house or save our son from having to deal with it on his own.

I may have mentioned that we live in historic Kensington, Maryland, incorporated in 1894 and preserved as a small town of Victorian homes and antique shops.

Our house, built in 1912, is still quite in character. From the gingerbread out front to the lace curtains, wood floors and flowery wallpaper, our home appears to be inhabited by prim and proper residents.

Until you get to the third floor. The Pussycat Lounge is my husband’s man cave. It’s also his treasure chest, his scrap book, his museum, his “art” gallery. It’s a monument to his childhood, adolescence, adulthood and his second adolescence.  It’s where cigars are smoked, whiskey is sipped, hundreds of carousels of old slides are viewed on a large screen. Some nights, the mirror ball spins, the lava lamp bubbles, tiki lights twinkle and, before it almost caught the house on fire, a commercial sized neon bar sign glowed. It’s also where old nursery furniture and baby clothes were stored and, until recently, where a turn-of-the-century clawfoot bathtub, not connected to any pipes, held hundreds of stuffed animals.

Oh, and it’s also command central, where the business of the household is managed.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. There are no words for the Pussycat Lounge. As with any significant monument, it must be experienced.

Some day we may offer tickets to the closing of the Pussycat Lounge. Everyone who comes can take a souvenir, which might just be a picture of you.


Filed under Family and Friends

6 responses to “Pussycat pussycat

  1. William Greene

    As an early visitor to the Pussycat Lounge, I can attest to the stunning quality of pictures and ornaments. But most of all, the pictures.
    Marty is clearly one of the most talented photographers of his time. I say this from the perspective of a photo-junkie and photo-pack-rat.
    Who can forget the annual Christmas Card pictures of “Joseph” as he grew up? I still have mine : )
    Who can forget the endless Dewey Beach dating days of Marty and Monica? I still have my copies.

    So, empty the attic if you wish, close the lounge from posterity, end this frivolous venture of artistic memories. I don’t mind: I have pictures of it…. and each of you.

    • Bill, thanks for your kind and descriptive comments. Did you find yourself in the photo? These photos remind us of a time when our body parts were higher and firmer. But as we continue to sag, our friendships, and the memories, become all the more dear to us.

  2. Ellen

    Don’t decommission the Pussycat! Its sacred.

  3. Sheree

    I have not been “up there” since the house was almost new…to you. Do remember the tub, sans the animals!

  4. Having been there – all we can say is –

    pussycat pussycat WE LOVE YOU!

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