Miss Marple herself would abandon this mystery.
There is no death -- at least, not yet.
But there are strange goings on up at the Algodón manse.
You already know I spend most of my time on the patio on the ground level of the Melaque house.
Hammock. Swallows. Sitting area for reading. Jiggs's sleeping bag.
But there is also a wet bar. And the sink and counter are the mystery.
Even before I arrived, very distinct droppings started appearing on the counter. You can see them in the photograph at the top of the post.
Those of you who jump ahead have probably already identified our culprit as a mouse. If you have, you have picked the wrong suspect. The strainer in the sink drain is too small to accommodate a mouse.
The droppings are a bit more exotic. They come from the visiting bat or bats.
Or so I have suspected.
But I have yet to see a bat roosting in that area. I have stopped in at various times of the evening and night. But I have yet to catch a bat using the Talavera outhouse.
Saturday afternoon, I thought I had trapped a new suspect. I heard a tapping sound in the sink. It looked as if someone had placed a ball or something over the sink drain hole, and something underneath was attempting to escape.
Like a magician's assistant, I picked up the "ball," with an appropriate flourish, to reveal -- nothing, nada. Other than an empty drain.
I then looked at what I had in my hand. It was a large hermit crab. "Large" because it was in a shell the size of a fine escargot -- a subtle woman's fist.
So, I now have two mysteries.
One. Is that really bat guano? If so, where are the bats?
Two. How did a large hermit crab make it all the way up on the counter, merely to get trapped in the sink? Are the bats now offering crabby passenger service?
Warning to anyone considering retirement. This is the type of thing that will soon add fascination to your days.
There is no death -- at least, not yet.
But there are strange goings on up at the Algodón manse.
You already know I spend most of my time on the patio on the ground level of the Melaque house.
Hammock. Swallows. Sitting area for reading. Jiggs's sleeping bag.
But there is also a wet bar. And the sink and counter are the mystery.
Even before I arrived, very distinct droppings started appearing on the counter. You can see them in the photograph at the top of the post.
Those of you who jump ahead have probably already identified our culprit as a mouse. If you have, you have picked the wrong suspect. The strainer in the sink drain is too small to accommodate a mouse.
The droppings are a bit more exotic. They come from the visiting bat or bats.
Or so I have suspected.
But I have yet to see a bat roosting in that area. I have stopped in at various times of the evening and night. But I have yet to catch a bat using the Talavera outhouse.
Saturday afternoon, I thought I had trapped a new suspect. I heard a tapping sound in the sink. It looked as if someone had placed a ball or something over the sink drain hole, and something underneath was attempting to escape.
Like a magician's assistant, I picked up the "ball," with an appropriate flourish, to reveal -- nothing, nada. Other than an empty drain.
I then looked at what I had in my hand. It was a large hermit crab. "Large" because it was in a shell the size of a fine escargot -- a subtle woman's fist.
So, I now have two mysteries.
One. Is that really bat guano? If so, where are the bats?
Two. How did a large hermit crab make it all the way up on the counter, merely to get trapped in the sink? Are the bats now offering crabby passenger service?
Warning to anyone considering retirement. This is the type of thing that will soon add fascination to your days.
