Once a year he returns...THE BAT...
I was awakened at 4:30 in the a.m. by a swishing, twishing (?) sound...alas, alas I found myself eye to eye, face to face with a swoopin' poopin' bat in my bedroom. I immediately tore the sheet off my bed to cover the whole of me (minus the eyes) and watched his activities. I was soon brave enough to get up (still holding the sheet) and flipping on all of the light switches in the house. He was already put to bed hiding as the dawn was breaking. All day I thought of the bat..and it was a busy day with the ending of the school year, two celebration parties and then back home to the bat. I decided to organize a posse' of the neighborhood. Lee came with his golf club, the boys next door with brooms, Karen with her butterfly net, and I? My sheet. We tore the house apart looking for HIM. He did not show up until all had left and the last light went out for sleep. At 11:30 he began his swoopin' poopin' excersizes in my room again. Under the sheet I called Karen. She bounded over with her net and caught the little devil. I must admit he was mean looking and had sharp teeth. But all is well, she let him go, I went back to sleep, and the world is a little safer with Karen in charge.
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana. When she is home at the White Picket Gardens you can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories