Did you ever plan something special only to have it fall apart before it even started? Well…
After checking for scheduling conflicts and finding none, I reserved a Johns Cottage at Little Pine Campground for a two-night stay with Teenage Grandson and Tween Grandson….reservations that could not be cancelled without losing the first night’s fee.
Less than one week later, Tween Grandson found out he DID have football practice during the summer and couldn’t miss any practices without forfeiting his chance to play in the weekend game.
One grandson down and out.
Teenage Grandson still wanted to go. That is until the week of the campout. The weather called for rain and thundershowers. Teenage Grandson decided he didn’t want to sit inside a small cottage and watch the rain.
Two grandsons down and out.
That left only me, at least for the first night.
Sunny skies greeted my arrival at the campground. The rain and thunderstorms held off until the middle of the night. By morning, the rainclouds had dissolved into blue sky and sunshine.
I set up a chair on the cottage’s porch, plugged in my laptop and went to work writing. But squeaking sounds kept coming from the edge of the porch roof. Was a squirrel up there? No, nothing on the roof.
I went back to writing. The squeaking continued. Taking a closer look, I discovered bats sleeping between the two fascia boards running along the porch roof. One had warped quite a bit, creating a dark cubby hole between the two boards, perfect for bat naps.
Not especially fond of bats, I flagged down one of the campground maintenance men driving by. He glanced up at the sleeping creatures. “They won’t hurt you. And bats are disappearing. Plus they eat bugs. Don’t want to kill them.”
“I don’t want to kill them, either. I just don’t want to live with them.”
“Okay, I’ll let the boss know about ‘em.” He left.
A short time later another maintenance man pulled into the campsite. He counted eight bats sleeping in the cubby hole. “Can’t do anything about them during the day. None of us maintenance guys work at night, only the park ranger is here after dark.”
He drove away, leaving me alone with the bat motel. The rest of the day I kept sweeping bat doo-doo away from the porch as it dropped down.
Hubby arrived that evening and built a nice campfire. After dark, we shone a flashlight into the cubby hole. As expected, all occupants had departed.
The next morning Hubby left early for work. I peeked into the bat motel – no vacancy. But it didn’t matter, check-out time for me was 10:00 AM. Soon the bats would have a new landlord.
The campout had turned into a nice time after all. I did get some writing done, had an unforgettable bat experience, and enjoyed an evening campfire with Hubby. Can’t wait to go again.