I have three very nice essays, all handwritten (on my lunch hour at work!) and ready to be keyed in and posted. However, regular programming has been temporarily suspended while I obsess about the BAT in my BASEMENT. Not the nice blue plastic kind that's used to hit a whiffle ball; that one's in our backyard. No, a REAL bat. Brown, winged, about the size of my hand. Seen on Tuesday night, as I entered the basement to do laundry, flipped on the light, and very nearly hit the deck as an unidentified flying creature zoomed around the basement a few times before vanishing. Surprisingly, I did not shriek.
There is a BAT in my BASEMENT. Some bats carry RABIES. Rabies makes people DIE. I've gotten a degree in general bat information from Google University over the past few days, and have run across many sites about Beneficial Bats, and how they eat insects, and really, only 10% of them might carry rabies, and we are all statistially likelier to get hit by cars than we are to catch rabies from a bat. This does not make me comfortable with a family of bats living in my insulation, however. Professional help (of the bat exclusion kind, not the psychiatric kind) should arrive early next week.
Back to continued freaking out over BAT in BASEMENT.
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parenting my sons/ mourning my mother/ finding myself
1 comment:
Well....at least the bat isn't in your belfry...not that you HAVE a blefry, but if you did, this bat wouldn't be up there...he's a basement-dwelling bat. They're usually a bit less intimidating I hear.
How's the job?
-M.
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