Where in the World is Anne Holly?

Don't worry, I have yet to be carried away by bats. I have been, in fact, very busy with work and writing. I have a deadline fast approaching for a Halloween story, and I needed to get my course reader into the printers so my students would have it for the start of classes in September. Things are progressing fine, and I should be back to normal next week.

In the meantime, you can find a new interview at Rawiya's, a jazzy blog for erotica. This is certainly Adults Only (18+), and possibly NSFW (depending on where you work).

Miss you all, but time waits for no blogger!

Isn't it Ironic? (Bat Story Continues...)

Some of you might have caught my recent bat incident. If not, the short version is that I woke up very early Friday morning to a bat flying around my apartment.

We all survived it, but I'm a bit worse for wear. Friday all day, I was a total zombie. Friday night, I'll admit I had trouble sleeping - I had to leave way too many lights on, and every time the cat moved I almost jumped out of my skin. Today, I am sore as hell with muscle stiffness from all the deep knee bends I did while trying to avoid being dive-bombed by the little bugger. I hope I can sleep better tonight, but am still slightly anxious as night falls.

In any event, the irony is, this bat encounter has put me way behind schedule on my Halloween short, which I had hoped to finish writing on Friday and send off today to betareaders. Instead, it's not finished, and likely won't be ready for reading until Monday now.

One would think that a bat event would help move a Halloween story along - in fact, it really hasn't.

sigh.

Back to work...

Bat Story

At around 4am, Friday morning, I was woken from a sound sleep - very sound, brought on by exhaustion and the first truly nice, cool nighttime temperatures we've enjoyed in some time. What woke me was our cat, Ralph, barreling up the entire length of me, from his habitual sleep-spot at the end of the bed all the way along me from my feet to my face, where he then used my head as a launchpad to propel himself into midair.

My first instinct was to cuss and try to go back to sleep. A second later, though, my brain registered what it was that had Ralph freak out on me - a BAT in my apartment!

I covered my three year old son, who (thank heavens) sleeps with me, with a sheet and a pillow - he slept on for most of the ensuing drama, and I wanted to make sure the thing didn't land directly on him. The second thing I did was lock a wildly protesting Ralph into the bathroom - I don't really need a rabid cat on my hands.

Then it was game on.

My first weapons of choice were a broom and a pillow held over my head. And, thankfully, I remembered to put my shoes on. Soon, however, I realized an empty pizza box from the recycling bin made better cover - it could also swat and flap. (Thus ends my newfound expertise and advice in the area of bat wrangling.)

I punched out the screen on the big front window, and yanked down the curtains. I closed off all means of escape into other rooms, keeping the window as the best possible solution for him. To me it seemed simple from the bat's point of view: "Large, angry woman, chasing me with broom... Big Assed Open Window? Oh, yes, please!"

Sadly, what I had here on my hands was a not-so-bright bat.

One who failed to find the window. Every. Single. Damned. Time.

I swiftly made two calls: One, to my super - who, wisely, didn't answer. It was, afterall, 4am. The second, to my dad - trusty Salt Of The Earth type who must have dealt with his fair share of bats in his life. That call went something like this (meanwhile, flustered bat is flapping madly about the place):

Me: I have a bat! In my house! A Bat!
Dad: Well, how'd that happen?
Me: Not my major concern at the moment. How do I get it out?
Dad: Well, grab it with a pillow case. Or a thick coat.
Me: Don't they have rabies?
Dad: Well, yeah. They can...
Me: Great.
Dad: Knock it out of the air if you have to.
Me: Sure - that's bloody likely.
Dad: *laughs his ass off for about two minutes*
Me: *screams and hangs up as the thing dive bombs me*

Well, I have to say, I had figured out the "grab it with something and take it outside" part on my own. I just kind of hoped my dad had a better plan. Perhaps one by remote.

Apparently not.

So, bat is finally starting to slow down. At one point, he tried hanging behind a bookcase, which I then rattled the heck out of until he relinquished his harbour. He then hung in the kitchen, on the cabinet above the stove. Grabbing the broom and a thick, insulated shopping bag, I considered knocking him off his perch into the bag... and then realized my face would be someplace along the way between broom and bag.

Honestly, if he flew into my face, I knew I'd never be the same again.

Soon the tot woke up, but was, thankfully, extremely obedient and laid flat on the bed - though he was observing this all with great delight as his mother ran around cursing/screaming/praying all at once, while some sort of weird bird danced with her.

At one point, I lost sight of the bat. Frantic, I asked my son if he'd seen the bat fly out the window.

Tot: Yes!
Me: Really?
Tot: Yes!
Me: Are you just saying that?
Tot: Yes!
Me: So, you didn't see him fly out the window?
Tot: Yes!
Me: You're not a reliable witness right now, are you?
Tot: Yes!

Well, I would never believe the thing was actually gone until I saw it leave, anyway, so it made not much difference.

Spotting the thing again, I chased it a bit more, noticing it getting slower and slower all the time. Eventually, out of puff, the bat took refuge in a toybox. I knew he was there - I saw him in that area, and could hear him. Grabbing up my courage, I emptied the toybox on to the floor, and...

Nothing!

For the life of me, it seemed the bat wasn't in there!

Now, I started to panic a bit. The thought of leaving for work, knowing it was in here some place, knowing I had to come back after work, and... what? Wait for nightfall for it to reappear? *shudder* No, frigging, way.

I started to kick the toys around a bit, expecting that he'd fly out. Tot started to panic a little, because he thought I was about to vacuum (yes - wild animals are fine, but major home appliances? Nope!). So, here I was, singing and trying to talk to tot in a cheerful voice, all the while needing to pee urgently (since the cat was still locked in the loo), and going out of my mind frantic.

Good times!

Eventually, I resolved that the bat simply had to be in that toybox. He never left it as far as I could see. Nudging the toys with my foot, slowly, so I could see what was under them - with the brightest lamp in the house pointed at me so I could inspect - I finally found the thing!

Small, brown, wings folded under - it really could have easily passed for a swatch of fabric lying on the carpet. It certainly didn't look like Dracula's concubine, the way it did while it was swooping at my head moments earlier. His little sides were heaving, he was breathing so fast and furious.

You and me, both, little guy, I thought.

For a split second, I must admit I did consider just stomping the shit out of him. (In my defence, I was rather hyped up on adrenalin.) Luckily, my right mind returned to me, and I looked at the pathetic little thing. It was time to end our little comedy/drama.

Taking a thick folded lap blanket, I plopped it on top of him. He made no attempt to struggle as I carried him out of the apartment, out of the building, and tossed him on the lawn. He sat for a moment, there, on the cold grass, and then flittered away.

I, on the other hand, burned rubber back in the house so I could close up the now-screenless-window, because if that sucker had actually gone out of his way to get back in here... I think I would have lost my mind. Literally.

So, here in the aftermath: None of us were touched by it, thankfully, so I don't think we'll need rabies shots. I will be taking Lysol to everything. And taking some time off.

My son is fine. He had a lot of fun afterwards running around covering his head and screaming, so I could get a full sense of how fabulous I looked while doing it. Thanks kid! He thinks it's great - he has re-envisioned it as some Diego Animal Rescuer adventure.

Ralph was soon let out, and hasn't stopped patrolling and looking for his bat ever since. He did, however, get a nice plate of canned chicken dinner for his troubles, since he was the one who alerted me to the intruder. Good Kitty!

Now, I have to keep my window shut until I can get it repaired, lest the cat get out. I will call the super again in a few hours to have this screen, and the one in the back room (I can only assume that's how he got in, since it has a little tear in it), replaced, so I can have my windows open this weekend in the mini-heatwave we are expecting. I will also ask them to look around to make sure there are no bat families, bat condos, bat holes, or anything else batty in my own private belfry.

And we won't be reading Stellaluna again any time soon.

By order of a very tired, stressed out Mama.

~*~

Update: I fixed my own screen, so we are able to breathe in the heat, and I did find the entry point. The little hole in the backroom window screen is no longer quite so little, so the thing must have fought his way in there. It's been patched, so I hope he won't decide to try again. Besides, he's likely still running - scared out of his wits because someone once told him humans carry rabies.

The Importance of Feeling Good

I have no theme for the blog this week, but I think you can say the theme of my week in real life has been feeling good. Or, really, coming to terms.

You see, I wasn't feeling good there for a bit. I got into the pits, listening to strangers scolding people over the internet (and occasionally scolding me), and wallowing in the negativity that comes from so many aspects of life. I wasn't taking care of myself. I was mired. I was getting work done - tons of editing - but my fresh writing was souring.

That little voice in my head that keeps suggesting I quit writing and concentrate on the Day Job was screaming at me instead of its usual whisper.

These are not good things, folks.

The internet breeds jerks, sometimes, because the most cowardly jerk can be a Big Hero behind a screenname. These people are irrelevant, because you can turn them off. See? There's the little X at the top of your browser? See? There's a little lighted button on your computer. Use it when/if you have to, and the jerks go away! How amazing! There are also incredibly useful, rational, non-jerkish people to be found - find them instead, and enjoy them! Concentrate on what is useful; filter out the things that aren't.

And take care of yourselves, because that is really useful.

Sometimes when we are busy, we feel like it is productive to push ourselves - sometimes, it is even necessary to do so. Coffee replaces both sleep and food, and your wrists ache from too much typing/scrolling, and you are one giant twisted wreck from sitting, sitting, sitting. Yes, sometimes that even makes us feel like Authorial Vikings, punishing our bodies for our art, reveling in our endurance and feeling the satisfying pain of Working Hard. I do this more than I should, I admit.

But, sometimes, this is counter productive.

Yesterday, I went to see a movie - one that had nothing to do with screaming cartoon animals or anthropomorphic automobiles saving the world. True, it was the new Harry Potter, so perhaps I am not one to judge, but the point is, I went as a free adult on R&R - not as a mommy. I enjoyed myself, thoroughly. There was a moment of panic at one point when I realized I had no idea what was in my email inbox at that very second (*gasp*). But, I survived that panic. After I picked up the tot from playschool, we went for a long walk; we got ice cream cones. Last night, we watched an Elmo movie together. I read. I hand-jotted some notes for the new short I have to write in the following weeks. I ate a big meal, not at my desk. I slept. My goodness, how I slept!

Today, I feel like a million bucks, and ready to hit those edits I have to do.

Sometimes, the things we think of as productive, aren't, and the things we think of as wasting time... well, they really don't. Not in the long run.

I feel good today. It's important to feel good once in a while, don't you think?

Have a great day, folks.

I am Mommy, Hear me Roar

Mommies can really do anything. Or, at least, they can do what is needed. I know this is not true of every mommy out there - I am sure there are mommies out there that throw their hands up and let other people handle the tough stuff. But, most of the mommies I know can do anything they have to.

Perhaps this is not news to everyone. It was news to me, in a way. Before I had a child, I had no idea what I was capable of. Now, I know mommies can do anything.

I have opened up a broken DVD player and, somehow, managed to revive it with nothing but a screw driver - it was one of those days that I really needed an hour's respite provided by Blue's Clues, and had no money for a new machine, so I managed. I have hauled home bags of groceries in one arm and a screaming child in the other without collapsing. I have finished a degree with a nursing child on my knee. I have managed so much more than I ever thought possible.

More, even, then I could have done without being a mommy, though I know that sounds paradoxical. Being a mommy unlocked a whole deep well of inner resources of strength, and determination, and resolve. Being a mommy, in a sense, ended my own childhood. Now, I know - if I do not do it, no one will. I must depend on myself, because the tot depends on me so. There is no longer an option to throw my hands up in frustration. Everything, always, must go on. And it's up to me to make sure that happens.

On Friday, I woke up to find my computer monitor and phone had both simultaneously died. Both had been malingering for some time, so it wasn't a shock, but it was a major setback. Especially since Friday was a holiday in Canada, so there were no stores open to replace them.

Recalling a stowed away busted up phone in the storage closet, I unearthed it and got into working condition as a temporary stop-gap. One problem solved in the meantime!

Digging out the old 1990s computer monitor stashed in the storage room did not result in a similar positive ending. The poor old thing simply could not handle modern graphics. So, I tried opening up the dead newer monitor - no luck, though it sputtered for a while. In the end, I fished out the emergency laptop to suffice for the time being until I can find a very cheap monitor. I miss the files on my old hard drive, but at least I have rudimentary internet functionality, even if on an 8" screen that looks more like a calculator on steroids than an actual computer.

And this allowed me to finish a crucial job application on time. And to keep writing my daily quota.

I didn't cry, I didn't throw a tantrum, I didn't lose hope. I just did what I had to do. I did, however, call my mommy, though - because mommies are also good for sympathy.

It's been one heck of a weekend. Here's to luck improving.

And here's to all the mommies! ;)