Thank God I'm a Country...oh wait, I'm not

I was a city girl all of my life. Born in California, moved to Washington, on to New York (all before I was 4). Even when we moved to Minnesota we lived in the city, mere blocks from a grocery store (albeit a small, neighborhood store) and other amenities.

There are some not-so-pleasant aspects of living in a big city. In NYC we had cockroaches. There were periodic sprayings for the cockroaches. My parents had to take everything out of the cupboards and cover everything in the apartment with sheets. It was inconvenient at best. There were still cockroaches and they grossed me out.

Once we moved to Minnesota, my bedroom was in the basement and there were silverfish to contend with there. I would squish them but it was with great trepidation.

When I met Craig and moved into his home I was out of my element. He lived in the country! It was interesting at first, an adventure for the city girl. We could have a bonfire and be noisy as late as we wanted.

Then one night we were out late trying to finish putting in a stone walkway between some trees. Craig had set up one of his work lights to aid in the "seeing" part of the project as the sun dipped lower and lower then disappeared. It was hot that day and evening. I remember "perspiring" even though I was wearing a tank top. Suddenly as I stood overseeing the work I felt something land briefly on my back. I freaked out (appropriately, in my opinion) and the thing flew away. If you are familiar with me at all you know what it was.

::shudder::

::skivvy skeevy shudder::

It was my first intimate experience with a bat. I should have known then that bats would be common out here but I was naive...and in love...and love conquers all, right?

Are you wondering why I'm talking about bats again?

Last night I was sitting in the recliner, reading blogs...(Happy Birthday yesterday to Beck! You were the lucky blog I was reading at the time of the incident!) when I heard what sounded like something falling from the shelf in the closet near the door. It's our coat closet, a large closet covered by bi fold doors. I had gotten crayons out for my Aunt's daughter (who I am babysitting this week) earlier in the day so I thought perhaps something had fallen or settled in the closet. It was a pipe dream thinking that since moments later the "paper" made some distinctly bat-like sounds.

The cat moved quickly from the couch to the closet. Then I heard more non-paper sounds. So, I scooted my butt up the stairs and told Craig that there was a bat in the closet. (aka: get your butt downstairs and extricate the bat now please!)

I lay in bed trying to read my book for book club, listening for triumphant sounds of bat eviction. Minutes rolled into an hour. Anxiety was high. Finally Craig lured me downstairs. He'd excavated the closet and took all the coats outside. The things that remained in the house were decidedly bat-free. The coats would be quarantined in the garage for the night and the next day.

Let me just say:

Dear Bats,
Our house has no more vacancies. You should find a better crib to crash in. Please to not be making me lose my mind. kthanxbai.
Love, me