|Bat resting up on the curtains|
You know it's going to be a difficult Friday night when, just as you've had some nice wine and are about to settle down and watch some pulp TV, Graeme Norton etc, along comes a bat. This one flew out of the fireplace and orbited the room like some buzzing Messerschmidt or refugee from Gotham City for ten minutes before alighting, puffed out on the curtains. We quickly recovered from the initial shock and sat still on the couch with cushions on our heads, the bat ignored us and we ignored him. The impasse however didn't last and he started flying again and more worryingly swooping. We retreated from the cowering couch position and opened the front door and closed various other doors. He still flew in circles showing no inclination to leave us in peace. We discussed butterfly net and trap and possible legal options to rid ourselves of this mutated flying mouse and then seeing them all as too complicated or beyond us gave up, the bat had won it seemed. Then suddenly he perked up, flew out into the hall, spiraled around exploring his new surroundings (with a few extra swoops to unnerve us) and then headed out the front door, his radar now on spiky high alert I imagine. We breathed a hearty sigh of relief and closed the front door. Just at that Graeme Norton came on the TV babbling as usual, I wonder, what did that bat really know?