The hazards of rain, sleet, snow and sinking temperatures.
A few days ago the upper Midwest was hit with an incredible mess of rain, snow, sleet and sinking temperatures. Parking lots, sidewalks and driveways turned into lakes and streams that quickly froze over into a rink that Olympic hockey teams could have played on and speed skaters could have raced around. The pond at the bottom of my driveway froze over and has icebergs that could sink the Titanic.
Today the sun came out. The frozen paths in our yards softened. I thought it would be a good idea to chip away at the ice. And I did. Chop, chop, chop…..chop, chop, chop. Take shovel, scrape, lift, toss. Repeat.
And then it happened. The shovel, with its batch of ice, flew off of the end of the handle. Up and over the snow bank and into the road it went. I guffawed.
The remains of the day.
A summer breeze.
The smell of freshly mowed grass.
The smell and colors of flowers in bloom.
It’s January 30th and I had a bat in the house today. Really. A bat.
The evil winged one was lethargically circling the dining room around 3:45 this afternoon. At least that’s when I noticed him. I’ve been sick and dozing most of the day in front of the TV so it could’ve been flying around for quite a while. Nonetheless the bat was in the house. I’m sick. I’m watching Adam-12. For some reason I looked over my shoulder and saw it circling.
I groaned. “What are you doing in the house?”
It’s winter, folks, and I live in the northern climes of America where snow is piled high and the temperature sinks below zero. Bats are supposed to be hibernating. This is my theory. A few months back I had the attics insulated. There was a moment when I heard scuffling in the attic while it was being insulated. The man doing the work confessed later that he had disturbed a bat and it went off in the other direction. The worker waved his hand vaguely in the other direction which included the open attic door. I kept that bit of information in my brain because I figured I would have to deal with the creature eventually, just not in winter.
Odds are the bat was “chilling” in the cool upstairs; happily dangling behind some dresser or bed post. But with the warmer house (due to the insulation and me having turned the thermostat up a bit due to being sick and that “arctic vortex”) I think the bat became confused and thought that it was warm enough for some bugs to be flitting about. He was wrong.
And so today came. He had made his way downstairs to make his presence known. (I think he’s been downstairs a few days because I remember hearing some weird noises a few days ago.) I had no choice folks. During the summer season I happily corral the evil winged ones on the screened-in porch and then open the door so they can escape to the outdoors. But it’s winter. There’s a few feet of snow on the ground. It’s cold. I whacked him with the racket and tossed him in a paper bag. He’s not dead, yet. He’s still in the bag but in the garage. If someone wants to adopt him, let me know. He’ll last a while.
And, does anyone know if Officer Reed found his pregnant wife at the hospital?