Okay, This WAS Sort of Funny

I had this long post all ready to go detailing my adventures in sheep herding yesterday, featuring the Incredible Escaping Lambs and a whole lot of bad words. But upon reflection, if was kind of long and boring. Plus something else happened that totally trumped the sheep adventure. And what could be more entertaining than runaway sheep? Well may you ask.

BAAAAAATS.

Yes, they're back! Or perhaps I should say they never went away. This time it was vastly more amusing to me, however, as I didn't STICK MY HAND WITHIN 4 INCHES OF THEM. The story also involves the Shop Vac. So get comfy and ready your popcorn and Whoppers, because this is a good one.

Yesterday afternoon, the MiL casually mentioned that there had been a bat in her bedroom the night before. Notice she didn't drop this bomb until the AFTERNOON, as if a vampire in disguise flying around the upstairs of the house wasn't notable enough to be announced immediately upon waking in the morning.

Anyway, it flew out of her room on its own, so she opened the bathroom window and went to bed, figuring it would find its way out the open window. But this bat was apparently a Dylan Thomas fan, because it did not go gentle into that good night.

Right before A. got home yesterday, the MiL was walking around outside the house when she spied a suspiciously bat-like shape in the parlor window. Upon further inspection, she determined that it was indeed the bat. It had made its way downstairs and into the parlor, where it decided that the curtain would be an excellent place to rest. She came into the kitchen to tell me this while I was making dinner. Neither one of us volunteered to remove the bat though, so we just left it there.

Then A. got home from work, and I said, "Hey, wanna see something fun?" And I showed him the bat. Now here is where we get a good insight into the workings of the male mind. I had been thinking perhaps someone (NOT ME) could just kind of bundle the bat into the curtain it was hanging on and then take the whole bundle outside. A.'s first thought was to get the Shop Vac and vacuum the little monster up. The MiL and I had our doubts about this operation, but since A. was willing to dispose of the bat, I, for one, was not going to quibble too much about how he did it.

So A. readied the Shop Vac, the MiL stationed herself to turn it on when he gave the command, and I stayed on the other side of the glass French doors to the parlor, because I'm a big sissy. Despite the fact that the nozzle to the Shop Vac was maybe an inch away from the little bat, the first attempt to suck it up was unsuccessful. And the thing didn't even MOVE, it just hung there. Creepy little bastard. So there was a second attempt which was satisfactorily sucky (ha!), and A. carried the whole Shop Vac outside, where he opened it up. He reported that the bat was still alive and "looked a little surprised." I asked him later what kind of expression a surprised bat might have on its nasty little face, but he couldn't give me a satisfactory description.

And here ends another installment of "BAAAATS: a Blackrock Miniseries." Stay tuned--I'm sure there will be another episode soon.

BAAAAATS.

Update: Continuing the Disgusting Wildlife theme, I just went out to the mulberry tree for the daily gathering of the berries that had fallen on the tarp overnight. I started gathering, and then heard a sound and at the same moment realized the tarp was moving. And there, about 2 feet in front of me on the tarp . . . SNAAAAAAKE. It was about a foot long, so not huge. But I'm from Arizona. No matter how many times I am told there are no poisonous snakes here, my immediate reaction to a snake will always be, "AIEEEE!!! POISON!!!" So I stood there and watched it slither very slowly off the tarp, and then it stopped on the grass at the edge of the tarp to watch me pick up the berries. Gross.