Crickets

For some days we have had a guest in the house. He seems to live in the kitchen and has proved rather shy. It was a cricket and he's lonely. The noise starts at night and drives three quarters of the household insane. Attempts to locate and remove him have failed.

Last night was the worst. I attempted to recreate a smoky atmosphere with incense and candles but at around 4 a.m. She Who Must Be Cuddled insisted on a weapon of mass destruction, namely the insect spray all Israeli households have. My lack-of-sleep muddled mind missed the dangers and I found out all to easily that the gas is inflammable. We have a sightly sorched small mat but otherwise no damage except to my pride and heart rate.

The cricket survived.