Bad news: Our cat ran away.
Somewhere in between those two things were snow and Thanksgiving.
It's snowed twice since my last post and we were quite unprepared. I had been waffling about which snow boots to buy, mostly because I just couldn't truly accept that I'd be out in the snow enough to justify the purchase of $200 boots that are wildly impractical outside of one very specific weather condition. So I ordered a pair of Bean Boots, which are back-ordered through March 2016 and narrowly avoided breaking my neck while navigating the icy stairs up to our apartment in my J. Crew ankle boots. Lane thought he could just get by with the ultra light down Arcteryx jacket he grabbed from the lost and found at Locanda and a few layers. Elliott was far more prepared than either of us, but we quickly discovered that playing in snow without gloves is not fun. So off to REI we went in the middle of the first snow of the season. Elliott needed a nap, but he needed "glubs" to play in the snow more and I thought it was ridiculous to go out in the middle of the actual snow to get snow gear (why not just wait?), so we were all a little on edge. However, I found a pair of boots I find moderately cute and Lane found some that kind of match mine. The whole family got "glubs" and some hats and we returned home to play in the snow like people who maybe know what they are doing. We made a janky snowman, but mostly really enjoyed pelting each other with snowballs.
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| Boots and gloves procured, the Milburns make the world's jankiest snowman. |
Thanksgiving was a low-key affair, catered by Whole Foods. I thought it would be a good idea to provide homemade baked goods, but by the time the pumpkin pie was out of the oven and the Parker House rolls were embarking on their final rise, I was ready to face plant into my bed. However, I persevered, put on a dress and a little lipstick, and thoroughly enjoyed a lovely meal with my in-laws. Elliott ate a ton of turkey and spurned everything else except the tender insides of a couple of my rolls. Lane made an excellent salad of greens, radicchio, radishes and seven-minute eggs. The pie was a hit and we ate it with scoops of Graeter's ice cream. We spent the rest of the long weekend inside because it was cold and rainy, playing Play-Doh, watching The X-Files and Seinfeld, snuggling, doing the Sunday crossword and eating. On Sunday, we needed to get out of the house, so we bundled up and drove over to Daubenspeck Park to find some puddles to stomp in. We succeeded in finding some excellent mud puddles (and procuring more Play-Doh during a quick stop at Target -- Elliott will play with it for literal hours), but failed in unknowingly letting the cat slip past us as we left, me lugging an Elliott and Lane lugging the car seat down the stairs.
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| Yes, this is the picture we used on the missing cat flyer. It really captures his personality. |
I didn't notice Max was missing until around 4:00, when he usually starts agitating for his dinner. Ted was curled up on the couch, so I just figured Max had found an exceptionally cozy and elusive nap area. Max has managed to find some very obscure hiding spots in his ten years, so I was looking in kitchen cabinets, in box spring linings and behind the couch. After I tore up the apartment, I woke Lane up from his own nap and he went outside to look for him, even though we were 90% sure that he hadn't even managed to get out. It got dark and Max was nowhere to be found, so I cried and freaked out and eventually went to bed, worried about my cat freezing to death. We put up signs all over the complex and I put a note up on our neighborhood message board -- our downstairs neighbors called Monday morning to say they had just spotted him sitting by the little pond behind our building, but by the time Lane got out there, Max was gone. He's been out for three nights now and I'm terrified that he won't come home. He's done this a few times before, twice right after we moved to a new place. I'm hoping he's enjoying an adventure and I know he can survive on his own, but it's my job to take care of him and I feel so terrible that he's out in the cold when he could be inside with us, with a full belly and people who love him. I've been staring out our windows every chance I get, hoping to spot him and I've been obsessively reading my stupid horoscope expecting it to say YOUR CAT ISN'T DEAD AND HE'LL COME BACK TODAY. So please send some good Max-come-home vibes our way. Max has been with me for my entire post-college life and I've gone through a lot to keep him with me during some life moments where I wasn't even prepared to take care of myself, let alone a domesticated animal. It would just break my heart if after ten years together and this bonkers cross-country move, he just sneaks out the door and I don't get to say goodbye.
While trying not to worry about Max, Lane and I unpacked the last of our boxes and found the Christmas stuff. Elliott is super pumped that Christmas (the tree) is at his house, but not excited enough to respect my amateur crafting and not rip up the packing peanut garland I made last year. But he does look super cute with his "Christmas sock" on his head.
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