So I'm all about finding themes in my life. I don't know why, but my mind just sort of wanders all over these places and looks for connections. Now, I mentioned that I've been reading Darren Shan, a children's horror author who has written a deliciously scary series of books under the moniker of the "The Demonata." (It gives me shivers just to type that). I read another one night while waiting for my aunt to get back to the cottage (and hanging out with the dogs) that was totally addictive. Like a sugar rush, it makes you totally high and buggy, and then you come crashing down once you've turned the last page.
The story of a young priestess in the time where Celts and Picts and all kinds of other tribes ruled the land, Bec, the self-titled character of the novel, sets off on a challenge to a) battle the demons who have taken over, well, everything and b) find herself by finding her true tribe (family). She comes into contact with a much earlier version of Lord Loss, the same demon who tormented Grubbs in the first book in the series. Scar-ee.
Two days earlier we were tormented by a slightly smaller but no less scarier version of our own Lord Loss. Granted, more Silverwing than Shan, I swear to the gods that I had never been so scared in my entire life.
Let's set the scene: I'm sort of a little drunk after having maybe a half-pint too many Strongbow. I happily wind the way down the dark road back up to my grandmother's cottage. I'm thinking about writing and family and fun stuff and playing cards and all kinds of other delightful things. I'm relaxed. I'm happy.
Snuggled all up in bed after reading for a bit, I've got my earplugs in and I've drifted off dreaming of who knows what but it probably includes Ethan Hawke.
I hear, "Deanna! Deanna!" as my cousin Cam comes back to the cottage with his lovely lady Krista. "I don't mean to scare you but there's a bat in the cottage."
Keep in mind we're all tired at this point and kind of delirious.
I scramble out of bed and head into the main room, which was a good thing because the bat was IN MY BEDROOM.
Neither Krista nor myself are feeling particularly brave at this point, so Cam whips up this awesome contraption using a couple of coat hangers, a garbage bag, a broom stick and some tuck tape. Now that sh*t is strong.
And he proceeds to chase the bat from one room to the next as it swoops and swerves its way into every single crevice it can trying to elude Cam's capture. Until it lands ON THE WINDOW IN MY BEDROOM where we finally trap it between the screen and the glass.
Okay, when a bat swoops at your head it's scary. Because it gets so close that you can actually HEAR IT FLAP.
After we captured it, we all felt horrible, a) for screaming like maniacs and b) for scaring the wits off the little guy. We ended up cutting the screen so he could escape in the night, which he did, thankfully. But that creates yet another job for my RRHB to do up north because he'll be the one to replace the screen, which is not fun, I know, but there was a BAT in the cottage.
And for your lovely edification, here's a picture. See...SCAR-EEEEEE.
Girl with titanium hip will rock. Girl with titanium hip will write. Girl with titanium hip will read. Girl with titanium hip will battle crazy-ass disease called Wegener's Granulomatosis. Now stuff that in your spelling bee!
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3 comments:
OH.MAH.GUH.
I can so relate. Had a group of bats in my bedroom at the cottage once - I stayed under the covers and screamed for help. That swooping, fluttering noise is awful.
I keep trying to tell myself "Stellaluna is a bat. Stellaluna is nice. Ergo..." but it never works. I am still freaked out by bats. What a story!
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