Then there is the fact that life hasn’t been super blog-worthy. LC got married. D&D had their gorgeous baby boy, and R&R had their gorgeous baby boy. We are now surrounded by friends with babies and while at first we didn’t really know what to do (if we make them food, are we intruding when we bring it over? What do you bring to the hospital?), it’s actually a very pleasant situation now. R&R’s baby was conceived on our wedding day, so he is kind of special to us. He’s also one of those lovely children whose parents describe them as “easy.” All I know is that he is beautiful, sleeps like a log, and makes conversational little grunts like a cat. The thing I struggle with most around babies is wanting to talk to them like they’re cats. This is me, turning into an old cat lady.
Speaking of cats, we had a stray that adopted us a few weeks ago. We nicknamed her Pepe because she looked kind of like an aristocratic skunk, but also because she was super peppy given that she’d clearly been abandoned by her family and was scrounging around for food and water. Once she figured out what saps we were, it didn’t take long before she was sleeping on our porch and running over whenever we rattled the Friskies box.
Things got less funny and more complicated once the weather started getting really cold, especially at night. We fed Pepe lots of food and gave her fresh, unfrozen water. We bought her a fleece blanket and a fleece cat bed from Target so she wouldn’t freeze. It broke my heart that we couldn’t take her in ourselves because she clearly trusted us and she started purring whenever she saw Lunchboy, but we’re maxed out with three cats as it is and I can’t even begin to conceive of the drama that would have unfolded if we’d tried to bring another cat into the house. So we emailed everyone we knew, posted flyers in the neighbourhood and posted posts on Craigslist. When that got us nowhere, we called no-kill shelters to see if we could keep our little friend from freezing to death.
Finally, this week a friend of my mother’s agreed to take Pepe in. We brought her to Carol’s condo in Chelmsford, a condo dominated by a yappy bichon frise, but also oozing with warmth and the light from lots of windows. Carol immediately renamed the cat Lily and though Carol seemed more like a dog person, we hoped for the best and were grateful that Pepe wasn’t being cold on the porch anymore. I guess we’ll see what happens.
We are going to Florida for 5 days around Christmas and I am torn between looking forward to a week of warmth and recoiling at the memory of what happened last year. Please, let no one get the flu.
Oh, and the basement tile got fixed. Hurray! Now we just need to put up the new baseboards and repair the drywall and paint. Oy.
I kind of want to see the Christmas Revels this year. And the Shaolin warrior monks.
