Monday, June 6, 2011
This weekend was a beautiful time home, if not a little stressful. Moving back anywhere is difficult; moving back into an established home is even more so. There is something that is comforting about going to the kitchen and knowing exactly where everything is, knowing that it has been that way for the bast 20 some years of my life. Comfort in the little things.
And when I really need a break I can now drive 15 minutes down the road and hang out with the love of my life, Brooks. He is my friend's 8-month old and I love him to pieces. I was there visiting this weekend and, after picking him up from his nap, said to him, "Oh I could just take you home with me!" I was also telling him about the surprise birthday party we were having for my sister and told him he could be my date. He was just babbling happily, like babies do, and out of the blue his mom says, "Take him!"
I think my mouth hit the floor. "Don't tease me!" I said to her. I began feeling this consuming joy at the thought of spending the afternoon/evening with this little bundle of cuteness. After thoroughly convincing me she wasn't kidding and after getting the appropriate approval, his bag was packed, his car seat base placed securely in my car and we were off! I couldn't believe my good fortune! I sat with him in the back of my parent's car on the way to the party and couldn't stop staring at him. He was quite the hit of the party and everybody got a chance to play with him. After a relaxing tubby, he was bundled in his pajamas, said goodbye to everyone...and promptly fell asleep 2 seconds after he was strapped in his car seat.
I loved spending time with my Little Man! And if me being unemployed for the next few weeks (... I hope... ) means I get to spend more time with him? I guess I'm okay with that.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Saturday was a busy day around-the-house day. Laundry, some TV time (MI-5 is my new favourite), shopping trip with mom and a birthday party for Miss 5 Year Old.
Sunday was more eventful than I would have wanted. Minor car repairs to Stella needed to happen. My dad is the superhero of the weekend for calming me down and helping me fix her. (He did a lot of the work, but if it needs to be fixed again, I can totally do it.) The night ended with a beautiful baptism at church. Y'all know how much I love days that end in baptism.
Monday was busy. Breakfast at my friend's house, a trip to see my grandparents, and dinner with the family--all of the family. Leaving to head back to town was hard, harder than I thought. The plan was to get on the road, make it home, get to bed early and head into work on my last day early & refreshed.
Monday night did not go according to plan.
I got back into town around 10pm with every intention of showering the day off and heading to bed before 10.30pm.
That did not happen.
I was still kind of paranoid about the bat that was in my apartment on Friday. Mostly because we (me and the Game Commission guy, Kevin) couldn't find it. I was cool if the thing turned up dead when I got home from the weekend, but still wasn't really looking forward to dealing with a dead bat first thing when I walked in the door. As I'm bringing my bags back into the apartment, I slowly open the bathroom door (where we had trapped it) and took a look around. I didn't see it so I left the door to the bathroom open. I sat at the table to take care of some paper work and while I'm there, minding my own business, I feel this presence fly into the room and out of it again. "Stop it!" I told myself. "You are just freaking out. Maybe it's just a stink bug." Why I always think it's a stink bug, I have no idea. I waited, not daring to look up, and then went about my business. When it happened again, I started freaking out a little. A grabbed my phone and saw in the reflection on the screen that, yes indeed, that dang bat was still flying around my apartment.
I called Game Commission, but they were closed and no officers were on duty. Thanks guys.
I called my mom. She told me to call the family that I babysit and ask to crash on their couch. As much as I felt strange asking to do that, I did not want to have to deal with the bat that night. So I called and the dad, David, answered the phone. I explained the situation to him and asked for some sympathy. His wife has started feeling achy, (yikes!) so he was hesitant about letting me come over, but he did offer to help. He gave some suggestions (open doors and windows) and told me to call when I had it taken care of.
After opening some windows, I went into my bathroom armed with a broom and fry pan. I did take a moment to snap a picture of this bugger. He must have gotten bigger over the weekend because I did NOT remember him being that big. Anyway, the closer I got to it (perched on the sash on the bathroom window), the more I thought, "Oh my word--this broom is NOT long enough! If I get anywhere close to brushing it down or if I actually do, it might land right on my head!" Now it might not have been that bad, but when a bat has been in your bathrobe, any contact or thought of more contact with the creatures makes ya a little crazy about NOT having them anywhere near your skin. So the chicken in me just bumps the blinds with the broom, causing the bat to fly out into the dinning room and perch on the sash of one of the bay windows...right next to the OPEN window. Why he didn't fly out is still a mystery to me. Miss Chicken nudged the blinds with the broom again to help him "find" the open window. She also took a swing at him with the broom when he got a little to close to her. (She might have nicked him. He might have sorta run into the fridge...)
In all of this confusion, the bat ends up on my table, spread eagle. Not moving. Did I get it? I didn't think I hit it that hard. I watch it a few moments and it doesn't move. Just to be safe, I put the fry pan over it and weigh it down with a few dozen mugs. I was thinking about just leaving it there until morning when David called. He laughed when I told him I had it trapped under the fry pan. He laughed when I told him I was just going to leave it until the morning. He asked if i wanted him to come over and help me get it out of the apartment. I said yes, if you don't mind too much and thank you.
He was over in a few minutes and we started making a plan. We both had that nervous laugh of trying to make light of the situation but at the same time being freaked about dealing with a bat in close quarters. David slipped some cardboard under the pan and we took it outside. (We? Who am I kidding? David. I stood there with a broom "just in case" the bugger got out from under the pan. I also opened and closed doors on the way out. David actually held the cardboard and the pan with the bat.) David kind of tossed the whole mess onto a patch of grass and we both waited to see what the bat would do. When nothing happened, David nudged the bat with the broom and after a few failed attempts, the bat hopped around and flew off into the night.
David and I were then able to relax and proceeded to exchanged bat stories. The frying pan ended up in the trash (sorry, Sonya) and after thanking David profusely, went in to bed.
I'm still super jumpy. Birds now freak me out. The fan in my room last night rustled my sheets in such a way that made me jump up and turn a light on, just to make sure it wasn't a bat. I've had enough of this "nature" stuff. I won't even tell you about the spider who was a cousin to Shelob that was in my tub yesterday morning. ::Shudder::
Here's hoping it's the last bat I will see. Ever.
Or, at least for the next few weeks...