We had a sudden bat uproar in the house last night. After a terrible swooping fluttering flurry, we finally shut it into our bedroom, hoping it would eventually find the wide-open window and escape, and T and the cat and I ended up downstairs on various couches for the rest of the night, all of us attempting to calm down and get some sleep, which I'm not sure I ever did. I love bats in the wild and panic about them in close quarters--for good reason, though this one, poor thing, was clearly not interested in biting us.

My slip-sliding sentences here are a reasonable reflection of my overnight state of mind. But fortunately the open window did work. The bat has now returned to its proper sphere, and we are all highly relieved, except possibly the cat, who enjoyed the chaos, even if he was annoyed by the disruption in his sleeping arrangements.

I still have not quite pulled myself together, though a cup of coffee is helping. I sure hope I can find a moment for a nap today. I went out to write last night; tonight we're going to a baseball game, tomorrow night to a jazz show, which will mean three nights in a row of getting to bed late, on top of the bat mayhem.

In the meantime, the torrid weather continues. Yesterday I spent most of the day in front of the fan with stacks of books, a notebook, a laptop. Today will likely be a repeat--early-morning blueberry picking, a walk before the heat kicks in, and then books all day long. Let's hope the bat also has a calm day.