Occasionally at night, we’ll see bats swooping through our yard, eating mosquitoes. E has been talking about how great it would be if we had more bats living in our yard to eat even more mosquitoes, and recently bought a really cute bat house in order to encourage them to stick around.
Now, E does not do tools or carpentry or home repairs. She can take apart and reassemble a computer in about 5 minutes, but anything else tool-related is as awkward and tedious and non-intuitive for her as the idea of marinating and sauteing something would be for me. Standing on a ladder to drill holes into the garage wall is totally not her thing. But she enjoys cooking and I enjoy puttering around with tools, so I was perfectly happy to put the bat house up for her.
Bat house installation would have been a fairly simple process, except that first I had to remove a bracket on the garage which used to hold up a weathervane. Fortunately, M’s fascination with weathervanes, which had prompted its installation on our roof in 1999, had petered out long before Hurricane Irene snapped the weathervane off our roof this summer. And after a fair bit of fussing with screwdrivers and hacksaws, I got the bracket off, and the bat house up.
Isn’t it a cute bat house? It’s even a duplex inside.
E did a lovely job of holding the ladder steady for me, and passing me tools, and providing words of encouragement. She kept commenting, “You love me so much, you’re even putting up a bat house for me. I’m glad that you’re so willing to help me with the silly things I want to do.”
And I kept responding, “It’s really no big deal, and I’m glad to make you happy, and can you pass up the other screwdriver to me?”
Yes. Love truly is about the little things. And we really are batty about each other. (And that, as E would say, is the one really bad pun that I’m allowed for the day.)