Where The Wild Things Are

They’re at my house. 

30 hours of straight travel ahead, door-to-door, and all night it’s been Nature loud in hoot and chirrup at my house.  There is a cricket stuck inside in the the sitting-room somewhere, making more racket than you think a single cricket in a house could.  I’ve been up twice trying to bash it/release it lovingly back to the wild, but every time I turn the light on it shuts right up and I can’t find it.  But worse than the cricket were the owls!  Two of them!  I don’t know if they were getting it on or having a tete-a-tete, a heart to heart, dancing beak-to-beak or what but they had a lot to say to each other and it sounded like relationship stuff. 

“Get a room, owls!”  I silently shrieked. 

Silently, because Problemchild 2 snuck into bed with me at about 3 and by then all sleep would remain just a crazy, waking dream.   

So, up, fully dressed and leaving an hour earlier than I thought becasue I couldn’t check-in online last night for some reason and that’s making me nervous.  Why? Why can’t I check in?  Why is that?  I figure if I’m there an hour earlier, more shouting and bawling can be packed in if there’s any problem, and shouting and bawling is a more efficient use of my time than listening to owls getting it on while a cricket plays its mournful, incessant dirge for freedom.  On the other hand, maybe cricket-squashing and owl-slaughter are more efficient uses of my extra hour.  Oh, If only I’d remembered to exercise my constitutional wotsits and become a gun-owner. 



85 thoughts on “Where The Wild Things Are”

  1. Sami, you sweet naif, those weren’t owls. That was your pool boy and the upstairs maid again. Remember last month? When you called the police? And Sergeant Corprew patiently explained to you that no, a coyote hadn’t gotten his paw caught in a trap in your pantry, and that you needed to have a talk with Orlando? Same thing, sweetie. You have a nice nap on the plane, and if the sounds of nature red in tooth and claw intrude on your dreams, please know that it’s just a hastily-called impromptu meeting of the mile-high club. Travel safely.

  2. Don’t worry your wee head about the cricket while you’re away doll. I’ve been across and left the windies open doonstairs. No need to thank me hen, it was nae bother at all.

  3. Stay safe honey. i heard the most weird racket the other night and apparently there are screech owls as well as hooters.

  4. Our kids had four different species of crickets in Japan, in a huge glass cage full of vegetation. They made a racket like Grand Central Station, but we got so we could hardly sleep without the sound in the background.

    Here, the owls have teeny little voices. But you ought to hear the pre-dawn call to prayer, complete with computerized feedback.

  5. Thankfully the only hooters ’round here are me own – har de har! I was freaked out by a fox barking in the field beside me bedroom window a few nights ago… it sounded a bit like a sick banshee. I have never understood the rules of cricket.

  6. Just popping in to wish you and yours a Merry Christmas, dear. Give the wee ones an extra shot of single malt on Christmas Eve to get them to sleep until a decent hour on Christmas morning.


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