Different kind of day.

On the way up to the new build, Tim said, "I want you to figure out something." He started to talk about the erosion on the west side of the house where the entry to the basement is. I said, 'That's funny. I was thinking about that one night when I couldn't sleep. I have a plan. I want to dig it out level. We've got that pile of concrete blocks. We can build a retaining wall."

(We save everything. The previous owner had used them under his mobile home which was repossessed and hauled away, which sounds like a very sad country song, doesn't it?)

It was a fun morning, working in the sun, digging and leveling, and laying the block. Tim worked on his own project. 

We broke at midday and ran into town to get some concrete mix, and there I saw it. 

Angels sang. 

It was the front door of my dreams:

On clearance!! 

Tim said, "It's a 32 inch. We need a 36 inch. It swings the wrong way," and walked on, leaving me staring longingly. 

I priced the door at 36  inches wide, swinging to the right. A mere $1500. We will not be getting this door, which makes me sad. 

But the retaining wall looks nice, so far. 

That roof we put on to solve a bat problem? Well. The jury's still out on that. The tenant called to say that a bat had gotten in, but that it left. Kittery, her cat was studying a small gap between the 200 year old hand hewn beams and the wall. She thought they were slipping in there. Tim and I went down and sealed that area, but tonight, we got another bat call. 

We walked down in the dark, Tim with a flashlight and a pair of gloves and me with a sheet. There he was, hanging upside down in her stairwell. Tim tried to catch him in a basket, but he flew a short distance landing on her pen jar on her desk. "Give me your glove," I said to Tim and I simply picked him out and walked out the door with him, turning him loose. 

Here's my theory. He was awfully easy to catch, which is not the norm. I am going to guess that he's the bat from the other night. The new roof trapped him inside the tiny attic.  He worked his way into the house. Paula saw him, but he didn't leave as she thought. He got himself tucked away. After two days without food or water, he was very weak, which was why he did not fly far, which is why I was able to pick him up and turn him out into a full moon night.

Well. 

Either that, or he was rabid. 

One of the two.