Bats….in the Belfry

I like weekends and Sundays, mainly because I can get down to some serious reading, courtesy of the Barclay Brothers (Saturday Telegraph) and Rupert Murdoch (Sunday Times); and relish reading the many sections written by many talented, and unfortunately a few less so: journalists and writers. I especially delight in reading the ‘experts’ when they are replying to unfortunate correspondents in the field of commerce, money and of course, house maintenance and construction.

One of the more lunatic ideas grasped by one or other of the mobile lunatic asylums masquerading as Westminster Government is the total and undiluted protection of bats. Some clown decided that they were in ‘need’ of legal protection, with the result that they (the bats) get more protection than the average suburb receives from Muslim terror gangs, or even individual raghead Islamic nut-jobs, as I happily name them.

This person writes in that her cousin’s home, a converted barn in East Anglia, has been selected as a daytime roost for a swarm, or whatever the bloody term is for a large mobile crowd of these flying rodents; and states that while she would like to be rid of these noisy, dirty, smelly rodents, she is nervous about the Bat Conservation Trust; and well she might. This particular crowd of busy-bodies is relentless when it comes to the protection and provision of home comforts for their favourite winged pests, and the East Anglian lady would be well-advised to keep ‘schtum’, and rid herself of these pests quietly, and with zero noise or rue the day she contacted this particular bunch.

I have a small expertise in ridding premises of these pests, and once or twice have used my skills, with the usual small reward upon completion. My equipment was easy to carry and utilise; this being a very powerful torch, and an old-fashioned camera large flashgun. Once the area was surveyed and the centre of the nuisance established, I would establish my base, and simply charge up the flashgun, and fire it off, as often as necessary. The light itself doesn’t do any damage, but the recharging battery makes a distinctive seriously high-pitched whine as the capacitor receives its charge: and as is possibly know by every bat-hater in the nation (South Africa), the bats hate and fear that ultrasonic noise, as it interferes with their own navigation systems, they being ultrasound-based. Half-an-hour’s work followed by a swift seal up of the roofing cavities where the flying pests entered in the first place; ending with a swift application of a fumigation gas, just to ensure that the rodents don’t feel welcomed on their return: but its the flashgun noise which does the trick every time.

It is a pity the correspondent’s cousin lives in East Anglia, as I cannot easily get away from my home in County Durham; but still have the flashgun and camera; just for ‘emergencies’, of course!

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