Monday, January 22, 2007
A Superstitious and Cowardly Loft
The winter has been going surprisingly well here at the Invisible Commune, especially since the heat was finally fixed. It turns out that there was a bad fan in the basement so although the oil heater was going full blast, none of that heat was reaching my bedroom on the third floor. I think there's still a vent closed in the second floor bathroom, which I happen to use in the mornings, but otherwise the climate has been fine, both for myself and the other residents.
And not just the human residents! The house's black cat, Pluto, has been luxuriating its way through the winter. I'm not a huge fan of cats. Blame it on having been snuck up on, scratched, and otherwise creeped out by the genus Felis over the years. Nonetheless, this cat has been relatively bearable besides occasionally jumping onto the counter when I'm trying to cook. Also, for some reason, even though it has its own cat door in the basement the cat still knows exactly when I'm returning from the library, skitters up the driveway ahead of me and waits for me to let it in. It has its own door! Why I am I even part of this equation?
Honestly, though, I should be glad we have a cat given the very real possibility of mice. Unfortunately, even the bravest cat would have trouble with what happened a few weeks ago while I was on the phone with my girlfriend. As we chatted amiably about this and that, I suddenly saw a flitting movement out of the corner of my eye, behind me and above my line of vision.
The following is a paraphrased summary of the conversation which followed:
Me: Um...that was weird.
Girlfriend: What?
Me: I thought I just saw something.
Girlfriend: Oh?
Me (turning around): Yeah...it was...oh. Um...you're not going to believe this.
Girlfriend: What?
Me: It's a bat.
Girlfriend: What?!?
Me: A bat. It's flying around my room.
Girlfriend: Can you open a window?
Me: Hold on. I'll deal with it. Let me get my umbrella.
Girlfriend: What are you going to do with an umbrella.
Me: Ok...found it. It's really flying around here. (WHAP) Ok...I think I stunned it.
Girlfriend: Seriously?
Me: Yeah. I hit it with my umbrella and it crash landed on my bookcase and stopped flying around.
Girlfriend: What are you going to do now?
Me: Hang on (opening door) Hey Ron, could you come here a minute [fellow member of the commune/my next door neighbor]
Ron: Sure...what's up?
Me: Um...there's a bat in my room.
Ron: A bat?
Me: A bat. See?
Ron: Oh. Yeah...that's a bat alright.
Girlfriend: You want to go deal with that?
Me: Sure, I'll call you back.
It turns out this was not the first time there was a bat in my room. In fact, the last person who lived here kept a net to deal with his flying rodent problem. Between the two of us, we were able to trap the still stunned bat on my bookshelf and Ron was able to run it outside and release it.
Traditionally, the invasion of one's apartment by a bat is a momentous occasion, the kind of event of which superhero origin stories are made. In this case, however, I was more than glad to remove the extra resident from my nice, warm apartment and retreat once again to my work. I've kept the net though...just in case.
The winter has been going surprisingly well here at the Invisible Commune, especially since the heat was finally fixed. It turns out that there was a bad fan in the basement so although the oil heater was going full blast, none of that heat was reaching my bedroom on the third floor. I think there's still a vent closed in the second floor bathroom, which I happen to use in the mornings, but otherwise the climate has been fine, both for myself and the other residents.
And not just the human residents! The house's black cat, Pluto, has been luxuriating its way through the winter. I'm not a huge fan of cats. Blame it on having been snuck up on, scratched, and otherwise creeped out by the genus Felis over the years. Nonetheless, this cat has been relatively bearable besides occasionally jumping onto the counter when I'm trying to cook. Also, for some reason, even though it has its own cat door in the basement the cat still knows exactly when I'm returning from the library, skitters up the driveway ahead of me and waits for me to let it in. It has its own door! Why I am I even part of this equation?
Honestly, though, I should be glad we have a cat given the very real possibility of mice. Unfortunately, even the bravest cat would have trouble with what happened a few weeks ago while I was on the phone with my girlfriend. As we chatted amiably about this and that, I suddenly saw a flitting movement out of the corner of my eye, behind me and above my line of vision.
The following is a paraphrased summary of the conversation which followed:
Me: Um...that was weird.
Girlfriend: What?
Me: I thought I just saw something.
Girlfriend: Oh?
Me (turning around): Yeah...it was...oh. Um...you're not going to believe this.
Girlfriend: What?
Me: It's a bat.
Girlfriend: What?!?
Me: A bat. It's flying around my room.
Girlfriend: Can you open a window?
Me: Hold on. I'll deal with it. Let me get my umbrella.
Girlfriend: What are you going to do with an umbrella.
Me: Ok...found it. It's really flying around here. (WHAP) Ok...I think I stunned it.
Girlfriend: Seriously?
Me: Yeah. I hit it with my umbrella and it crash landed on my bookcase and stopped flying around.
Girlfriend: What are you going to do now?
Me: Hang on (opening door) Hey Ron, could you come here a minute [fellow member of the commune/my next door neighbor]
Ron: Sure...what's up?
Me: Um...there's a bat in my room.
Ron: A bat?
Me: A bat. See?
Ron: Oh. Yeah...that's a bat alright.
Girlfriend: You want to go deal with that?
Me: Sure, I'll call you back.
It turns out this was not the first time there was a bat in my room. In fact, the last person who lived here kept a net to deal with his flying rodent problem. Between the two of us, we were able to trap the still stunned bat on my bookshelf and Ron was able to run it outside and release it.
Traditionally, the invasion of one's apartment by a bat is a momentous occasion, the kind of event of which superhero origin stories are made. In this case, however, I was more than glad to remove the extra resident from my nice, warm apartment and retreat once again to my work. I've kept the net though...just in case.
