Bats. In the Attic. For real.

So, a completely non-RA related topic. The large woodstove in the house has been without fire for roughly a year and a half. This winter was mild, and unless it gets cold enough that the heat pump has to pump a whole lot, we avoid the stove. Too many of us have allergies to the smoke, and the stove is old enough to leak smoke a little.

Now, not to say that I do not love a good fire. There is nothing like sitting before a warm fire on a freezing day with snow outside a foot or two deep, and a good book and cold drink of Pepsi inside. Near perfection. Just add a cat dozing on the back of a couch, and the dog at my feet. Preferably on my feet, to keep them warm. Ah.

But I digress. We are speaking of high summer, the heat higher and longer than it has been in some years. I often sleep in the basement...it is cooler and helps with the pain. Besides, many nights I wake up and read or do art therapy to try and relax and sleep.
Lately as my DH (Dear Hubby) and I watch some TV and talk over the shows about his job, etc., there was the chittering of "birds".

"Oh, those stupid birds," I say, "They've built a nest in the stove pipe."

My DH looks at me, and replies with the calmness men always seem to have about creepy animals, "I think those are bats."

"Bats!" I just about shriek. "Why do you think they are bats?! Oh ick!"

DH looks at his hysterical wife, "They sound like bats. Not birds."

So, for the next few days, I complained to him every time the bats chittered. I did not realize bats chittered so much. And I believe they were inviting all their cousins, second cousins and some irascible uncles to visit. The drunk uncles sang bat songs all night with increasing volume.
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We happened to buy those "sound" things that are supposed to keep away bugs and mice. I assure you, if placed right beside a bat home, will clear bats out in one day. Oh ick.

It is indeed disturbing to sleep less than fifteen feet from a house of bats. I dare not open the stove and make a small fire to smoke them into finding a new home, as the nasty, ugly things might fly out at me. So I shrunk at each new chitter, and complained to myself.