Nope. Death-dealing rain.
Our power didn’t go out, but we did have a downed tree in our yard (a regular hazard of living on the edge of a forest), and half of our Halloween decorations were on the roof. Worse, the downed tree was one of our two bat house trees, and it fell directly on the bat house, smashing it to pieces.
I don’t know if there were any bats inside.
We do have bats, though. Every dusk in the spring and summer, they circle the yard, starting low above the grass and getting higher and higher with each circuit of our yard, eating bugs as they go. It’s a glorious site, that bat tornado. I hope they’re somewhere else hibernating right now. They haven’t logged in on Facebook Safety Check yet.
And I won’t know if there were any in the box until I chainsaw the tree to pieces.
But that’s not today’s Die-ary entry, because after I got home from work, I had an appointment with a documentary crew. The team of six set up lights and mics and cams in my library and asked me questions about Salem, New England, and the macabre for a documentary project.
I love doing that kind of stuff. I love the process behind it, the technology, the team of people working together in the moment to create something, having to change my shirt because it’s too close to the color of the couch I’m sitting on for the camera to pick it up. The crew was fun to hang out with, too, with some of them working on everything from Mysteries at the Museum to Castle Rock.
One day I’ll tell you about (or maybe even show you), the pair of proof-of-concept shows that the Travel Channel had me do about two years ago, but then didn’t pick up a pilot for. That was right before they went all-ghost-hunters-all-the-time. But that’s fine. As long as some alternate-universe me is having that kind of fun.
