Yesterday I went home at noon. As I walked into the living room I saw bat number six crawl out of the fireplace. As Mom had three old ladies and a priest coming by for lunch in a few minutes, I was a little more aggressive about catching this one. I actually "batted" it with my gloved hand a couple times until it flopped onto the floor. I picked it up and carried it, gently, outside. No doubt it was feeling battered. Then I taped a heavy duty plastic garbage bag over the fireplace. I figured the old ladies and priest might not appreciate more visitors. During the afternoon a guy I had called came by and put new screen over the top of the chimney. This should stop the influx of bats. Of course, there is no way to know how many had already come in. There may also be more stuck in the chimney.

Last night at midnight a sound woke me. I turned on the light in time to see two bats crawl out of the crate I keep photographic equipment in. I got up and closed the bedroom door (maybe I should rename it the "belfry") and put on the gloves and caught each bat--one per hand. I took bats seven and eight outside and went back to bed and slept soundly the rest of the night. I kept the bedroom door closed, since it seems like the bats migrate there. If they are in the bedroom, I want to keep them there so I can see them, contain them, and catch them.

This morning Mom told me she had had a bat flitting around in her bedroom, too. She didn't bother to say anything about it last night, so I'm pretty sure there is at least one more to deal with. She didn't want to wake me up last night since I was so short of sleep the night before, what with Joe Boxer briefs dances and cat watches and stool squats and so on.

Is that a great Mom or what?