Hubby left for work, and I was putting away clothes in our bedroom and changing linens when I noticed a bat near the vanity. This was 7am and I decided to get dressed and finish making the bed before grabbing a plastic bag from downstairs and disposing of the poor thing.

I texted my husband about the bat in our bedroom. He replied exactly how I expected. In the back of my mind, I had contemplated allowing him the manly honor of removing it when he got home. I admit I was a bit freaked out at the thought of touching its stiff body, even through plastic.

Last week I was thrilled seeing a live raccoon in a tree next door, a praying mantis on our front step, and a hawk atop a utility pole during my walk. This opportunity to see nocturnal wildlife in daylight was special. I thought of butterfly collectors and Audubon studying dead creatures pinned to boards. I couldn’t pass up taking a close-up of the fuzzy body with leather-looking wings and teeny tiny hands and big eyes.

Plastic bag over my hand, I reached down to clean up the bat before it started to decompose and stain our carpet.  

You probably guessed what happened.

I ran from the room and shut the door. Then texted hubby again so he and his co-worker could have a good laugh.

Hubby and I celebrated 40 years of marriage this month. So, I knew his next text meant to keep trying to get the bat out of our house. Years before, bats had entered our attic through a hole in the soffit. One scared a roofer who was repairing the soffit and putting on a new roof for us. Hubby didn’t want to go through the trouble again of removing a family of bats from our family home. When you’re married 40 years and have shared experiences, you know how your spouse thinks in a situation like this.

The bat was clinging to a curtain. I opened a bedroom window on the opposite side of the room. Then threw our comforter over the bat to try and catch it. The comforter was so heavy I worried I’d hurt the bat. It managed to get from under the comforter and was on the curtains again. I threw a towel and missed but the bat fell.

All day I checked the room to see if I could find the bat. I hoped that by dusk, if the bat was still in the room, it would wake up enough to find the window and fly out.

Hubby came home. He couldn’t find it either. We thought it was gone, but kept the window open just in case. Hubby stepped into the shower, and I went for a walk.

When I came home, hubby told me the end of this day-long story. He had finished showering and opened the door to our bedroom. The bat was frantically flying around. I was disappointed I wasn’t home to see modest hubby throwing his towel over the bat, leaning out the window in his birthday suit, and coaxing a bat out of his towel. The bat finally flew away.  

This is the end of our second year using solar energy. If you want to read about our experience during and after our solar panels' installation and a list of our last year's bills comparing our bills to before the panels were installed, click here. 

This post is a continuation of bill comparison over the last three years.

I'll repeat in this post that we still have an electric bill, and that we also pay IGS Solar each month for the energy the panels harvest. The more sun that shines on our roof, the higher our IGS bill. This wasn't clear when we signed our agreement with Trinity Solar, who met with us and installed the panels. 

Before our panels were installed, our 2018-2019 electric bill (no IGS bill included, of course) for the year was $4,077.13 

Our 2019-2020 electric bill plus the IGS bill for the year was $3,883.84

Our 2020-2021 electric bill plus the IGS bill for the year was $3,394.27

My hope, of course, is that our electric bills keep dropping. But . . .

Our IGS bill was $1,584.3 in 2019-2020.

Our IGS bill was $1,541.71 in 2020-2021.

So this bill averages about $1,560.00 per year. This is the catch. The IGS bill isn't an electric bill. When the person on the Trinity Solar commercial that I often see states their electric bill is virtually non-existent, the viewer isn't told there will be a bill besides an electric bill arriving each month that will never be virtually non-existent. Thus, even if our electric bill becomes totally non-existent, we still have the IGS bill to pay. And will IGS's rates ever go up? 

I don't know what the expense or involvement is in owning solar panels. But what this renter's understand is, is that after 25 years the panels are ours. Will the panels and/or our roof need replacing by then? 

I don't regret getting solar panels. Our main goal was being more responsible with our family's consumption of energy. But I wish Trinity Solar was clear in their explanation of our responsibility. The deceiving commercial is unethical. One actor says he funds vacations with money he saves on his electric bill. Those can't be extravagant vacations. 

I've seen people get so excited at the thought of saving money on their utility bill each month. I got excited too. Saving significant money and going greener at the same time is most desirous. 

But going greener alone is valuable enough for me. Add some financial savings and there's even more reason to celebrate. 

 
Soap! Soap! Soap! I love fragrant soaps with names like: Karma Bar, Patchouli Love, Salty Mermaid, Spring Lilac, Rosemary Morning. The more heavenly the scent, the more intense the spiritual experience.

For a Mother’s Day gift, Hubby took me to Ocean City, NJ and bought a 5.5 oz bar of each of the above from A Place On Earth Inc. These were the most expensive soaps I’ve come across. The first two were $11.00 each, and the others were $8.50 each.

I chose which long cubed loaves of soap smelled the best. The owner of a place on earth cut one chunky 5.5 oz cake from each loaf, then shave off the rough edges. He was friendly, explaining how he prepares the soap. He added slivers of samples to my check-out bag. The soap slivers now tease me to become a returning customer every time I open a bureau drawer and get a whiff of one.

My daughter gave me a gift basket that included a 5.5 oz. handmade bar of goats milk soap. Its scent is to die for, it’s so heavenly. The ingredients are: olive oil, coconut oil, palm oil, goats milk, pigment powder, and fragrance oils. The wrapper also said Heritage Country Market www.heritagebees.com. The girth of these specialty soaps has forced me to punt Hubby’s Dial from the shower caddy to the edge of the tub. 

Family know they can’t go wrong with a soapy gift when shopping for me. Fancy soap isn’t something I usually buy for myself. So, having a large family pays off when it comes to pricey self-care.

Wegmans Food Markets has handmade soap in smaller bars. I like them too. But maybe it’s the specialty shops’ 5.5 oz. bars’ size that appeals to me more than Wegmans’ soaps. However, I never smell Wegmans soaps on my skin hours after showering, like I do with the specialty shops’ cakes.

‘Wegmans’ and ‘cakes’ remind me how many edible ingredients are in cakes of soap: goats milk, honey, cocoanut, olive oil, vanilla, herbs, fruits. Food for the skin? Ambrosia for the nose!

This obsession of mine might stem from mortal awareness. A body needs daily care. The heavenly-smelling soap may be my unconscious way of taking this reality to a lavish level by igniting spiritual appreciation. Odors trigger moods, so my soapy love affair is not just indulgence, it’s aromatherapy. Any excuse for a bar of sweet-smelling soap will do!

What about you? Do you have a favorite place where you get special soap? Leave your information below in the comments. Hubby and I may stop there on our travels. And supporting small businesses is more important than ever.

It was the perfect place to think and create. Paisleys wisped across the cushions. Pleather that's easy to wipe down protected the armrests and bottom. The wooden legs and frame went so well with our coffee table. We even purchased a wispy-looking wall hanging to add to the dreamy milieu. 

But my dream couch, the only one Hubby and I ever owned new, faded too fast, even for its $700.00 price tag. The person I talked to from Best Furniture Upholstery explained that even though my cats clawed the pleather, after 3 to 4 years it would’ve flaked anyway.

That’s a disposable couch! How irresponsible for a company to make a daily-use item with material that doesn’t last. And how irresponsible for a company to make material for large items that quickly break down. This is hazardous to our environment.

The nightmare couch now sits next to trash cans on the side of our house. It’ll take up space in a landfill soon. This reality gives me an ache in my gut. The couch was supposed to be what Hubby calls a dead man’s couch, meaning that at my age I should have had it until I died. I shouldn’t expect a $700.00 couch to last for 20 years. But 4! My only joy is that two of the seat cushions fit well to replace the ancient ones on a chair in our bedroom.

Hubby said the couch was “a piece of crap” when he bought it. But he knew I loved the look of it, and how well it matched our living room curtains and seat covers. Maybe he also thought that since I’d be the only one using the couch, it would last.

Tape I applied stopped adhering when the dusty underlayer of the pleather became exposed. Someone with sensitive dust allergies may have had a serious issue.

I can’t be the only consumer who wasn’t aware faux leather flaked.  

Saturday, we bought a sturdy, used couch from Habitat for Humanity ReStore. It’s not dreamy, but it’s quality furniture we could never afford new. Without many options, we chose a basic color to avoid clashing with the paisley-print curtains and seat covers. 

I unzipped the seat and back cushion covers and threw them in the washer. I scrubbed the fabric armrests. Something I had planned never to do again.

Will my creative juices sour on a functional couch? At least our new/used dead man’s couch won’t go into a landfill anytime soon. Maybe it will find its way into a grandchild’s first apartment when they grow up.

As the functional couch grows on me, I plan to spice it up with a paisley throw.  

My child, in his work clothes and hat, is asleep next to his newborn. This photo throws me into a double quantum leap. My brain straddles the present as I peer at a mixture of time realities.

This tridimensional experience is jammed with emotions I don’t know what to do with and can’t explain. Am I in awe of my grandchild’s birth? Proud that my son is a good father? Missing his childhood? Just feeling old? Why is my time perspectives spliced together? This is my fifth grandchild.

When I visit my son’s home, I watch from the opposite side of a glass door behind a mask. Smart hubby explained that our present socially distant reality is causing this jumble of feelings that tip me between multiple time perspectives at once.

The living picture before me of my son, his wife, their baby, and a menagerie of pets through their full-length, glass, screen door is their present reality. One live snapshot that moves and talks and cries and barks and pees on the carpet and claws the furniture. I’m grateful for this glass door that gives me an unimpaired view. And, unlike a typical visit, they stand on display, giving me their direct attention. Like I’m hugging them from outside a huge bottle.

My mother had preferred watching me hold my newborns. She enjoyed her visit most that way because she could see the baby more clearly from her seat across from me. And, of course, babies are more comfortable in their parent’s embrace when learning a new face. I finally understand this as I look at my grandchild in my son’s arms. I’m not only seeing a content baby, I’m feeling quiet joy radiating from a new father. What a view! What an experience. For a split second, we’re all in the same dimension; the same space.

So, I guess I can’t admit that I miss holding our newest family member as I peer into those two time dimensions that bend together on the other side of the glass. All three realities will mesh soon enough after our health crisis is over. Then, I won’t feel like I missed my grandbaby’s newborn time on earth. I can travel again.

Deep love buries selfishness.

Proud of my family. Proud of me.