Tag Archives: bats

Oh, good. There is a squadron of vampire bats chasing Bubo around the house. It appears I’ll need another drink before slumber.

This is a marvelous article, and I find it completely fascinating.

Do YOU know how many tablespoons of blood a Vampire Bat needs each day? Read here: Vampire Bats.

Small favors that Mordecai’s letter arrived via a less-vicious chiroptera. Otherwise I would have ended up with more than my usual paper cut.

I woke last night (early this morning?) to a delightfully fierce thunderstorm. The trees shook, the sky rumbled, and all the bats squealed in the attic. I rushed to the East Tower to watch from the balcony and even the gargoyles shuddered.

So arising this morning was difficult, especially since all the creatures were sleeping late. The house was unusually quiet and it seemed much too enticing to stay in bed.

Luckily, there’s Professor Elemental to energize me.

What? You’ve not heard of Professor Elemental? He’s a delightful fellow who made this. I might just make this my morning song to get me giddy for the day ahead:

The Professor has perfected the art form known as Chap Hop. Think about it; is there anything more perfectly suited for me than Chap Hop? Plus, the good Professor lists adventure, invention and a good cuppa as his interests. Know anyone else who lists those as his interests?

I agree, it’s a little spooky. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Mordecai had hired a convincing actor, but I know my brother is off exploring the north and hasn’t been near much for a month.

You can find the Professor on his website: www.professorelemental.com.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a pot of Oolong calling my name and a flivvervaat that is about to have a litter in the kitchen cupboard.

Not to mention that the beasties are lowing and I hear the distinct sound of dragons sputtering fire.

Oh, Monday. You are  a demon, aren’t you?

Splendid!

Last night it sounded as though a great army were running through my walls. I’m accustomed to the usual scrapes and scratches this old house produces; I know that there are creatures who live here just beyond my sight and I’m ok with that. The rodents tend to stay away since Bubo has a remarkable appetite and the bats tend to stay nearer to the attic in the eaves.

These noises were new and different and I am still puzzled as to who my new house guests could be. Or what they could be.

Which brings me to this Wednesday’s Word.

Myomancy [mye-uh-man-see] is a noun originating from the Greek for mouse. It is divination by the movements of mice.

Before you throw up your arms and laugh, think about it. Is it not completely logical to study and follow the patterns of our little creatures, since certain voles have an ability to anticipate earthquakes and field mice have been known to change their behaviors in anticipation of lean or abundant harvests?

There are numerous ancient Greek and Roman stories alluding to major generals taking cues from mice and rats; if one’s shoelaces were chewed by mice, for instance, you’d best not go into battle (for a number of reasons, I’m sure).

Honestly, our scientists today study mice and rats even more fervently than history’s most avid myomancer.

As do most New York City subway riders.