BATS IN HER BELLFRY.

If you didn't know before, you know now that Ruth HATES BATS and cannot stay in the same house with them.  As you can see from the picture of her home, she has a drop dead gorgeous attic.  The kind you see in the movies.  Because the house is old, it is also appealing to bats.  Last Autumn she had the real "batman" come and take care of plugging up all the places the bats could enter but apparently one was still hiding in the attic.  (Well, let's hope the is just this one).  Here is an account of a recent event.

Last night it was just after 9:00 and I was getting ready to go upstairs to bed when I heard little sounds, indefinable sounds, suspicious sounds, coming from behind me. "Please, let that be a cat..." I prayed. But, NOPE!!

IT WAS A BAT!!!!! A BAT!!!!!!!!!!!

I cowered in the corner of my kitchen by the fridge, the bat swooping back and forth in and out of my line of vision. The phone was too far to reach, laying five feet away on top of a stove burner (as all phones should) for me to get with the bat flying willy-nilly in that room alone. "I can handle this" I thought to myself silently. "HELLLPPPP!!!" I inadvertently cried out loud, sounding for all the world like one of those little old ladies with the alert necklaces.

Having last seen the bat fly over towards the sink and not back again, I knew that my only option was to go upstairs and into my bedroom and that now was my chance. My bedroom had the two things I needed most: The bat net AND a phone. I'm sure I made quite the picture, scrambling up the stairs BACKWARDS. I closed the door, warily eyeing the considerable gap underneath, waiting for the inevitable leather-like claws to come crawling slowly in before flying right directly at my head. I grabbed my little corded princess phone, plugged in for emergencies when the power goes out, and dialed Julie and Scott, gasping as if I'd run a marathon.

Bless their hearts, they agreed to come right over (even though they were watching "The Apprentice" and it was near the end. Who got fired? They'll never know). It took awhile because Scott had to put his boots on, so I did what all grown women do in perilous situations: I called my mom and dad. "Why don't you take care of the bat yourself?" WHA - ? Until you've been ALONE in the house with a bat, I don't think you have an idea of the magnitude of fear that comes upon you. It's not that you need someone to protect you; that's not the only reason for company, it could be someone YOU feel the need to protect, thereby becoming braver yourself because you have someone to be brave for. At the very least, someone to share your fears or to call the doctor when the bat bites you with its bloody fangs would also be nice.

They talked to me until Julie and Scott arrived and made me feel much better. Alas! It was discovered that my side door which is frequentlly un- was left locked, and I knew that my front door was too. The only way for me to let them in was to GO DOWNSTAIRS, LAIR of the BAT, and let them in myself!! So I grabbed my net and my tennis racket, tucking the racket under my arm so I could wield the net with an arm and a half. From the top of the stairs I saw the bat fly into the kitchen from the living room. I waited a bit, didn't see him fly back out, so I quickly descended and when I got to the landing went backwards to the door. I am SO CALLING that Bat Guy today!! The guy that I paid $550 to bat PROOF my house!!!!

I armed Scott with the net, he clomped through the house turning on lights as he went, ending up in the kitchen where the bat was last seen. It took a little bit, but we finally heard, "Hey, mister! He's making himself at home here!" The bat was hunched over, sitting on the sill of my large window in the kitchen, CLAWS in front and darting his tiny tongue at Scott. Scott put the net over him, and the little bugger was so small he got out again! (in my defense, they don't LOOK small when they're SWOOPING around!!). Brave Julie took the racket and went into the kitchen. Julie screamed a teeny bit, I could hear her from my courageous vantage point by the front door. Next thing I know, Scott comes clomping up and down the hill of stairs in his boots, little bat softly screaming a tiny bit, trapped between the net and the racket, a bat sandwich, if you will. I opened the front door and stood back. WAY back. Scott took him out the door, down the stairs and across the street. He flew towards the neighbors. So long, suckah!!

I decided to stay at my own house last night after heartily and multiple timesy thanking Julie and Scott. I am armed once again wherever I go with a racket, stopping and starting at every little sound. It took me a long time to go to sleep, because every time I closed my eyes I thought to myself, "Wait! If my eyes are closed, I won't see if there's a bat!" Finally dozing off around 12:30.

OY.

Let's hope this isn't the beginning of another saga of bats. How they heck did he get in? It's hard knowing they can squeeze themselves through a hole no bigger than a pencil eraser. We'll see what happens today - TONIGHT.

Here's a note from Ruth tonight.

From your lips to God's ears, as the day is slowly darkening once again and it's time to take up arms.  Or at least find my tennis racket (I don't need it during the day).

I was just reciting that Maori war chant I learned for the May Day celebrations for who knows what grade.  Maybe THAT'LL make me brave, should the need for bravery ever arrive again!  Or it'll at least bring the neighbors.

We'll see what happens!  Wish me luck! 

LOVE YOU!