Natalie Whatley

I always grin when Jim Finley refers to his real newsman office as “The Bat Cave”.  But I’ve got him beat! (And he has me befuddled. I was specifically instructed NOT to address him as “Mr. Finley”. His column last Tuesday, inspired by Senator Barbara Boxer D-California, invited us all to address him in a more dignified way –Mr. Finley would suffice. Yes, sir.) 

The Whatley Estate has been transformed, and all I knew about traversing its interior has to be re-learned using sound waves to locate objects. Scientific folks call that echolocation.

A shrew is a small mouse-like mammal with poor eyesight that emits a series of ultrasonic squeaks to navigate its habitat, or a woman who finds fault and has a nagging temperament.  Feel free to form your own opinion on which one I’m mimicking.

Recall last summer when I complained about my electric bill that more than tripled (our usage didn’t) and how I dumped my former electricity provider for playing games with the rates. Once I got settled in with my new provider and a locked-in rate, I began looking for other ways to beat the summer heat.

First order of business was turning up the thermostat a few degrees.  Those not responsible for paying the bills commenced with the “it’s hot” whining.  I explained how “hot” was relative and asked if they’d also like to be hungry; if only man could live on air-conditioning alone. 

Jeff installed solar screens on the area receiving the most complaints (the upper east wing) with commendable results –so much that I had the brilliant idea of covering all 33 windows! 

This spring, before the sweltering heat made its early arrival, Jeff complied with my request. The Whatley Estate, with its rooms once bathed in sunlight, went dark. I caught window-cover man measuring the last sources of natural light.

“Don’t worry about the north side,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t ask why all of the sudden I was eager to have him stop seven windows shy of completion. Trying not to rouse his suspicions I added, “Really, it’s fine. The north side is shady anyway. It’d just be extra work. Here’s something cold to drink. Take a load off, and I’ll put everything away.”  I may give up writing for acting.

Now, the flick of a light switch causes me to wince. My eyes no longer want to adjust from dark to light. Daylight burns. My lateral incisors seem to be lengthening. And people are starting to wear garlic necklaces around me.

With the solar screens, blinds, and curtains, I wake not having a clue what time it is. When I get up, I bump into things. KABAM! My shins will never be the same. Living in constant darkness has made my vision less keen, but my hearing –incredible! Jeff, I can hear you snickering. Gosh, Batman, that’s not very polite.  When I find you . . . BAM!  BIFF! SOCK!

I don’t know if we’re saving any money, or not. Seems like in lieu of the air-conditioner running we’re turning on lights. I’d compare last summer’s usage if I could, but right now I’m hanging upside down by my feet. All the blood is rushing to my head, and I can’t see worth a darn.

Keep laughing . . . I’ll use the sound waves to find you!

 © 2009 Natalie Whatley

Tags: echolocation, shrew, solar screens