Can't stand the crickets
Here in North Texas the dog days of summer have been replaced by the cricket days of fall.
The other night, on garbage-eve, I rolled the industrial-sized blue monster away from the house and cricket central came alive from underneath it. Now, if there’s one thing I hate more than garbage duty, it’s a surprise attack from a secret sect of stowaway crickets. I find any creature that comes flying out at me not particularly enjoyable, especially when it’s the end of the day and my reflexes are shot from wrangling kids.
I dragged the blue beast out to the curb and nearly stepped on a toad the size of my head on the sidewalk. Apparently camping out under a street lamp provided an all-you-can-eat buffet of crickets and other critters. He must have been full because he didn’t even budge. Good thing. You know how I hate things hopping out at me.
I wouldn’t mind the crickets if they’d stay outside, but invariably some have made it indoors. Uninvited. I found one under the dining room hutch the other day, attempting to out-hop a dust bunny. The dust bunny won. He scrambled for awhile, trying in vain to free his legs, but those dust bunnies don’t give up easily or fight fair. I had to walk away.
A few others decided to serenade us late at night, conjuring up my memories of church camp. I fell asleep humming kum-by-ya and longing for a s’more. Others I’ve scooped up with a scrap of paper and flung outdoors for the toads and frogs. It’s not that I think they’re sacred and won’t kill one. I can’t stand the crunch when you smoosh it, so it’s easier to serve them up as an outdoor appetizer.
We have a storm blowing in today, and I’m wondering what season approaches now. The lizard days of October? Fine, as long as they don’t jump out at me.
The other night, on garbage-eve, I rolled the industrial-sized blue monster away from the house and cricket central came alive from underneath it. Now, if there’s one thing I hate more than garbage duty, it’s a surprise attack from a secret sect of stowaway crickets. I find any creature that comes flying out at me not particularly enjoyable, especially when it’s the end of the day and my reflexes are shot from wrangling kids.
I dragged the blue beast out to the curb and nearly stepped on a toad the size of my head on the sidewalk. Apparently camping out under a street lamp provided an all-you-can-eat buffet of crickets and other critters. He must have been full because he didn’t even budge. Good thing. You know how I hate things hopping out at me.
I wouldn’t mind the crickets if they’d stay outside, but invariably some have made it indoors. Uninvited. I found one under the dining room hutch the other day, attempting to out-hop a dust bunny. The dust bunny won. He scrambled for awhile, trying in vain to free his legs, but those dust bunnies don’t give up easily or fight fair. I had to walk away.
A few others decided to serenade us late at night, conjuring up my memories of church camp. I fell asleep humming kum-by-ya and longing for a s’more. Others I’ve scooped up with a scrap of paper and flung outdoors for the toads and frogs. It’s not that I think they’re sacred and won’t kill one. I can’t stand the crunch when you smoosh it, so it’s easier to serve them up as an outdoor appetizer.
We have a storm blowing in today, and I’m wondering what season approaches now. The lizard days of October? Fine, as long as they don’t jump out at me.
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