BP and BW. I am easily in love with bar pies. I need to work a bit on the bat watch.
Jenna and I went to a local restaurant this evening to take advantage of their happy hour specials and to see a favorite bartender, Julie, who grew up down the street. Besides half-price drinks, we also enjoyed a bar pie ($5.00) with spinach and mushrooms (extra). It was all good.
As the sun was setting when we got home, we took up our stations on the side and back of the house to watch for bats escaping from wherever they spend their days. I plopped myself into a porch rocker on the west side of the house, while Jenna took her rocker to the south end of the house. We were both clad in hooded sweatshirts, Jenna in long pants and me with a blanket to cover my legs.
I shaded my eyes from the still-bright sky in order to focus on the porch eaves where I think the bats could emerge. Within minutes, my hands began to itch. Like, really, really itch. While I was unaware of any mosquitoes chomping down on my exposed flesh, I hadn't taken into account the sheer determination of the common no-see-um. I took it for as long as I could . . . and then I caved. I went inside. Within minutes, Jenna was inside, too. Oh, well.
I have (so far) successfully prevented the bats from entering my bedroom. They may still be in the attic. As of now, that's an unknown, as Jenna and I failed in our mission of discovery. Yesterday, I purchased a bat house, hoping to provide them with alternate housing. But after reading up on the specifics for establishing a bat house, I realized I do not have the proper conditions. I guess I will have to return the bat house to the store.
So what am I in love with? Well, clearly, the bar pie. It was really good. But the bat watch? Does anyone love getting eaten up by no-see-ums? With any luck, the bats will eat up the offending insects, reveal their point of entry and exit, and move onto someone else's bat house! (I can dream, can't I?) If nothing else, I am in love with the idea of solving this problem.
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