“Keep your sense of humor,” and “This too shall pass,” were my mom’s favorite mottos. Living off grid is a daily adventure that makes it clear these two truisms are very connected. We are proof you can laugh your way through 10 years of “a-disaster-a-day,” and emerge intact, if not a whole lot humbler. Granted, some experiences weren’t so funny at the time, and some definitely fall into the “you had to be there” category, but for the most part we never run out of knee slapping memories to share around the wood stove fire.
For example, the Bat Catching Adventure: what could be more idyllic than a summer evening dinner on the deck with friends? A delightful Italian menu, good wine, a world class view of Mt. Ashland and…..oiy vey! Was that a bat I just saw fluttering around behind my bedroom window? You would think four, in their 60’s, ex-hippy adults–two who have lived in the mountains for more of their lives than not, and two who had done a decent stint of commune living–could gracefully deal with a 10 ounce bat. Not exactly. (Have I mentioned yet, I really, really don’t like bats, even when they are outside eating nasty mosquitos?)
The first plan of attack was to turn on all the lights in the house, open all the windows and doors, crank up the stereo and douce even the candles on our table to lure the beast back to it’s preferred dark, quiet habitat. Outcome: a freaked bat now lodged behind our dresser and an invasion of new, biting house guests.
The gauntlet had been thrown and brave hubby Steve and good sport, dinner companion Ed armed themselves with the most ingenious bat-catching gear they could think of: a butterfly net, duct taped to our solar panel scraper pole. The ensuing ballet was note worthy– two old guys leaping and herding one very elusive bat. Exuberant phrases from the Hungarian Rhapsody would have provided the perfect background music. Meanwhile, my dear friend Crissy was trying to talk me down from visions of our partners being attacked by a rabid rodent. Luck was on our side. As William S. so timelessly put it, “ Alls well that ends well,” and the critter was indeed caught, and released. We went back to our Tiramisu and started reliving what is sure to become a favorite mountain tale. Sometimes it gets so funny up here, it hurts.