Busy afternoon...

Busy afternoon...

I think I mentioned some months ago that my friend at irregularreflections wanted to rent space for his second GoldWing in the Garagemahal for the winter. (Do you remember the off-mike chatter on the Dirt Band's 'Circle' record: "It's like Harold Bradley is with his guitars: he can't let them all come home at the same time or his wife'ld divorce him...") I weighed it for a while and came up with a suitable rent proposal: 'Come spring you teach me how to ride and take me on the road with you.'

So a couple weeks back I took the test for a motorcycle learner's permit, got my permit, and we've been waiting for a day when we're both in town. So when the weather cleared off this afternoon, I called him and and away we went.

Its been probably 35 years since I was on a bike, and I never rode a lot even then. But some things are hard to forget. Still, this is a big bike, and the biggest problem is keeping it upright when you're stopped. I didn't spill, or crash into anything, and we had a great time.

In another week or so I could go over to South Bend and take a riding test and get my permanent license. I might borrow a bike and do it, just so I have it. I doubt that I'll ever go out and buy a bike, but, on the other hand, why not?

We got back from the ride late in the afternoon and I looked at the blue sky and figured I'd have time to get at least nine holes in, so I called a friend. He was just about to tee off and waited for me. We got about 5 holes in - and to the farthest reaches of the course when it started raining. There was no lightning and we figured we get wet walking back whether we played or didn't play, so we just kept playing. It was a nice walk.

As I write this I'm sitting at a window with one eye on the vent that I suspect houses the bats. It is dusk. Sometimes at this time of night I see them feeding over my neighborhood. No sign of them yet. I would be cool to catch one red handed, as it were.

Incontrovertible proof...

Incontrovertible proof...

I think I have it figured out.

Which isn't the same thing as 'incontrovertible', but somehow that word has been bouncing around my head this morning and I had to use it.

Yesterday morning I crawled back up in the attic again. And then again. And I got out on the roof and scaled to the top of the dormer to inspect a place where the siding had pulled away from the house. And I looked carefully at the entire soffit, overhang and eves area on the south and east side of my house. It all came back to 'How are they getting in?'

It all kept coming back to this roof vent (for an exhaust vent from the kitchen). It is in exactly the right place below the roof of my closet, and there is no other evidence in the attic or anywhere else of where they could get in.

The thing that threw me was that, although you can't see it from the angle of this picture, this vent has a screen in place to block bird and bat entry.

But when I got up close, I found a screw in the bottom of it and I took as much of it apart as I could. The screen pops right out, and when I looked closely at it I saw little brown hairs stuck to it! I took this photo against the white of the broom so you can see them. There is just a little bit of a gap around either side of the screen, and it is evidently enough that they can squeeze by. And when I reached up into the vent, I could feel a slot where they could bypass the ductwork and squeeze into the rafter. Evidently the space above it is not insulated and they can get in to it.

So I think I have the spot they're getting in. It will be easy enough to exclude once the danger to blocking in any babies that can't fly yet is past. In the meantime I'm closing my closet door at night and nobody has been back for a visit.

Time will tell.

One step closer...

One step closer...

Last night I was in my closet getting ready for bed when I heard what has now become a familiar sound. It is somewhere between a flutter and a wobble, and I thought a bat was in the closet. I looked high and low and behind the shelves; my closet is under the eves so it goes from 8' high to 2' high over about 10'. No bat visible, but the flutter wobble was still there, and I realized it was in the ceiling!.

So the good news is I've found where they live. The bad news is that I know it is a they - there are a bunch of them. And I'm still not sure how they get inside my room. And I'm not 100% sure how they get into rafters. But I have more to work with.

I've been reading on-line and found an excellent post here about one guy's experience removing bats. This lines up with some other things I've read here.

Take home ideas:
The only way to get rid of them is exclusion. You have to seal the entries.
You don't want to seal the entries while they're in the building or they die in the roost.
To avoid this you install one-way valves over the entry so they can get out, but not back in. Leave those in place for a week or so so you're sure everybody is out for good, and then seal it permanently.
Here is the kicker - Don't seal anything between May and August because there may be babies that can't fly that would get stuck in the roost and die.

My plan now is to concede the rafters to them until mid-August and then go through the exclusion process. In the meantime, I'll try to keep them out of my closet and bedroom so I can get a decent nights sleep, and I'll try to find and isolate their entrance to the rafters.

This is beginning to look like a summer's long project!

Golf...

Golf...

Last night I went golfing for the first time in almost two weeks. The last 3 or 4 outings have been Discouraging with a capital D.

Golf is such a mind game. Stop and think about it: the act of hitting the ball takes maybe 4 or 5 seconds for each stroke. So you play nine holes and shoot a 50, you actually spend about 4 minutes playing golf. This on a round that can take about 2 hours. So the rest of the time the game is in your head.

To score well you have to make every stroke count. You don't get many goofs. So when you take a bad shot, it is easy to say 'oh boy, now I'm in trouble. I'm going to end up with an awful score.' And then you go ahead and make your prediction come true.

There are also a lot of contradictions that you have to live with. Like if you hold the club too tightly, you end up with a wooden swing. But if you hold it too loosely, well, it can fly out of your hands. For me one of the biggest contradictions is caring about the score. If I care too much about it, I inevitably blow it. But you have to care a little.

So the key to my turn around last night was decided not to keep score. I decided all I was going to care about was hitting the ball well and having a good time. So I didn't keep score.

I started off pretty much like I had been playing - a couple or three strokes over par, but I really didn't care. I just enjoyed hitting the ball and seeing where it went. Then on the third hole I hit one into the trees on right side of #12 (a long par 5). Since I didn't really care what happened, I picked the riskier shot and, without much of a practice swing, punched it right out into the open where I was aiming. My third shot went right again, and instead of going up to the open fairway on the left went careening for the trees on the right. But it was a well hit ball and it looked like it might have cleared them. I walked forward, not really expecting to find it because I thought I probably lost it in the woods or the tall grass on the far right. When I got out of the woods, there was my ball plopped up a little grassy area with a clear view of the green. I hit a nice fourth shot on to the green, and then (let down) three-putted. But that shot over the trees was a turning point. I didn't still didn't care about the score, but I found myself really enjoying the game, and I bogeyed the next three holes, all of them close to par.

As I came down to the last three holes I told my companions that I wanted to par at least one of the three remaining holes. I was on the green in two, and put down my second put for par on #16 (par 4); had a beautiful drive, a long second put and a short drop for par on #17 (par 3); and was on the green in two on #18. I left my fist put short and missed par by about 2 inches on the last hole.

So I'm learning about caring, but not too much!

In other news, I had not one but two winged visitors last night. I don't know if they are the same bat, or different ones. One was in at about 1:30, and the second at about 4. They hadn't disturbed my markers, so I am back to square one in trying to figure out where they're coming in. This is not an accident or coincidence, and I'm really tired of it. Or maybe I should just say I'm tired; I feel really sleep-deprived.

I'm getting good at catching them: I'm using the garbage can technique in which you scoop into the bat's flight, by the time they realize you're an obstacle it is too late.

Lawn mower safety...

Lawn mower safety...

I was alarmed to learn in the paper this morning of the guy arrested for mowing his lawn wearing only sandals and a dog collar. Doesn't he know that you should "Make sure that sturdy shoes (not sandals or sneakers) are worn while mowing."?

Somehow I was relieved to read that it was a riding mower.

Back yard clean up...

Back yard clean up...

A few weeks ago I bought myself a decent digital camera. I haven't had a lot of time to post, but I've been taking a few photos while I've been working on the back yard. To the right is the before photo, taken June 7...


Followed by the after photo - taken this afternoon. I can't believe how much more open the whole yard feels with those two trees out of there. If you look carefully you can see the hammock posts.



Then here are some random photos from the last few weeks, beginning with my new solar powered clothes dryer in action. Stuff smells so good...



The first snow pea...











With more on the way...







After a storm...

(Doesn't look real, does it?)





Lark's Pig Ankle Rag revisited...

Bragging...

Bragging...

Congrat's Nora on the nice write up in the Trib. Did I mention she's my niece?

Roses...

Roses...

My house came with about a dozen well-established rose bushes. They produced a little last summer, but this spring they've been looking pretty pathetic. Somebody told me that roses take a lot of care - feeding, fungicide, bug repellent...

A couple weeks ago I picked up some magic compound that was supposed to feed and weed and debug roses. Tonight I finally got around to applying it.

It smelled awful.

I'm supposed to put it on every six weeks. The label said it is a violation of federal law to apply this in anything other than the intended manner.

So I think I'm going to try to keep them alive and reasonably healthy through the summer. Then in the fall either find a good home or yank them out.

Know anybody that runs a home for unwanted rose bushes?

Eventful morning...

Eventful morning...

I woke up at about 4:30 with what has become an all too familiar flapping and darting. This has gone from mildly amusing to annoying to really annoying. I'm starting to think the squash racquet might be a better solution, although I don't really want to harm this thing. I just don't want it in my house.

Once it was light enough I started looking in earnest for entry points. I found a spot way way up under the eves where the siding is pulled a little away from the soffit, and directly below there is a quarter-sized gap behind the trim header over my closet door. The roof is too steep to safely climb up there to close it up without knowing for sure that it is the problem. To help narrow it down I've set a tell-tale piece of paper in place over the inside gap to see if it gets moved next time I'm visited. I will learn something, and may be able to take corrective action after that.

Then I packed up and biked to the market. Fresh produce is starting to come in and I bought snow peas and broccoli and garlic scapes and asparagus and STRAWBERRIES! This was followed by stops at the post office, the grocery and the hardware store. It is pretty amazing how much I can fit in my panniers.

I'm seeing a lot more bikers out these days. People are pumping up tires instead of $4+ gallon gas. This is fantastic, but if you're a recently revived biker, here are two tips for you: wear a helmet and, most importantly, ride with traffic. This is a pet peeve: I passed a woman yesterday - actually two women - who were riding facing traffic. Actually they were split: both were riding towards me. One was on my side of the road and the other crossed over to join her after I passed. Dumb.

Once I ran all those errands I settled in to set up my hammock. Last year as a house-warming present my kids bought me a hammock, and it has been sitting in a box for too long. Last weekend I bought the posts and today I dug the holes to hang them from. OK, I just ranted on dumb people, so you can guess what happened next...

I needed to go another six inches down for my second post when I hit yet another tree root. I thought "How did this maple put a root down 26" below the surface?" And then I took another cut and wondered "What's that hissing noise?"

Still can't guess? From here I moved very quickly to the house and called the 24 hour emergency number for the gas company. They told me not to smoke near the cut and that somebody would be there shortly. Thirty minutes later we were excavating a much larger access hole. The NIPSCO guy is still here testing the line and finishing the repair.

With any luck I'll still get the post set this afternoon.

High price for a mosquito-free environment...

High price for a mosquito-free environment...

I came up stairs for to prepare for bed and discovered I had a bat in my belfry again. The first time was mildly amusing. I appreciate that my bedroom is beyond a doubt mosquito-free, but being the second time in a week, this is not what I wanted to see.

I removed the screen again, and this time he (a friend chastised me for calling it a her last time, so I decided to be equal-opportunity) found his own way out. I tried directing it by waving the screen around. That was definitely NOT helpful. So I calmed myself down, turned out the light and waited, trying to say encouraging things.

I have to start looking for entry points.

Street legal...

Street legal...

Notice to irregularreflections: I am street legal.

Unexpected house guest...

Unexpected house guest...

Sometime in the middle of the night I awoke because my blinds were flapping in the breeze. I got up and checked them, and opened them a little wider. The weather has been so unstable that I figured a gust of wind had disturbed them. I tumbled back into bed and didn't give it another thought.

Then as I awoke again in the dawn's early light I slowly became aware that I was not alone. Every homeowner in these old neighborhoods probably has at least one story of a bat visitation. I'm no stranger to it myself, having dealt with them at least once each of the two houses I owned on 8th St. I opened a screen and closed my bedroom door. She (or was it he? - I couldn't tell from where I was standing) looped back and forth for a couple minutes. I kept telling her to go lower, but she wasn't listening to me. She also kept getting tangled up in my mobile. I guess bats can't hear nylon line.

Finally she landed, seemingly exhausted, on the floor beside my bed. I pondered my next move, spotted the empty wastepaper basket, grabbed it and upended it over her, slid a New Yorker under the bottom and carefully carried her to the window and let her fly out.

Later as I lay back in bed, contemplating this post, I got to wondering what the experience was like from her perspective. What would she tell her friends and relations? What would she post on her blog? I concluded it would be something like

"Eeee eeee e e eee!!! E ee e eee eeeee, eee ee e eeee e!!! E ee eee eee-eeeee. Eee eeee e eeee? E eeeeeeeeeee ee eeee e..."

Biking...

Biking...

I just learned yesterday morning that it is Michiana Bike to Work Week.

What are you waiting on?

Sure the weather has been a little threatening, but I got just a little damp on the way home tonight.

Biking is absolutely the best way I know to thumb your nose at ever increasing oil prices and traffic headaches. Plus it is great exercise AND produces no carbon. (Ok, I'm exhaling carbon dioxide, and my breathing is a little faster and deeper, so I guess I can't claim it is 100% carbon neutral. But compared to my neighbor's SUV?)

The Michiana Bike to Work Week site has great tips for making biking work for commuters. There are other sites too, like this one. Google commuting by bike. It's a movement.

What are you waiting on?

The whip...

The whip...

A couple years ago when we moved my mom out of the family homestead, we all had the opportunity to take any of the household goods that hadn't been divyed up in the Great Lottery.

For some reason I took one of the grass whips that my dad had. These seemed like antique tools from my childhood; I remember having to walk out in the boulevard in the summer heat and mow down the heads of the buckhorns that grew so high.

In the dry, hot weeks in July and August when the grass stops growing much the buckhorns would send their seed heads up and the lawn mower was just too much work so we'd take out the grass whips and mow them down. I remember pretending I was a golfer... and getting blisters from them.

So for whatever reason I hung on to one of these whips when we were packing up Mom's place, and it's been sitting in my garage since I moved last summer.

In the rain that we've had for the last few days, my grass has been getting pretty tall, and certain varieties have been shooting up tall sprigs. Not quite like buckhorn, but close. My new hand powered reel mower is a wonderful tool, but it doesn't do tall sprigs very well. So as I was mowing tonight I was wondering how I was going to deal with them when I remembered the old grass whip, and I retrieved it from oblivion in the Garagemahal. Even though it is dull and rusty after 40 years, I didn't need to replace batteries or change a spark plug.

It just works.

Local food...

Local food...

Tonight I had salad all from my own greens, with an omelet of eggs from my neighbor's chickens, and bread from Rachel's. (Yes, my neighbor has chickens. Often you can hear the one of the roosters crowing from my front porch. Their eggs make a very stiff omelet.)

Green stuff is popping up all over the place. This is my first ever garden, so I find it pretty amazing.

I'm having to learn a new way to be patient.