WHEN THE rains come, the crickets decide to move into the Hacienda uninvited. It’s an annual event.
They have a cat attitude toward water.
Their being inside wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t also love to croon, and they croon quite loudly.
The good thing is that the kitchen is their preferred location, and it’s a good distance from the bedroom. And they sing only when the lights are out at night.
But sometimes an adventurer will go exploring. He will hop into the living room, much closer to the bedroom. The adventurers are also singers, so something must be done.
When one heads out from the many hidey-holes available in the kitchen to the wide open spaces of the living room, he’s easier to spot and catch. I toss them back outdoors.
How do they get inside in the first place? you might wonder. Easy because Mexican home construction offers a plethora of pathways. One wonders why even more wildlife doesn’t live with us inside. So far, not one mouse.
That would send my wife over the brink.
Another phenomenon of the rainy season is teeny-tiny bugs the size of pinheads that appear on the ceiling of the downstairs bathroom. They fall to the counter where we pick them up and toss them down the sink drain. That’s it.
Those guys haven’t appeared this year, and some years they do not appear at all. It’s a mystery.
A hot-air balloon festival arrives this weekend, and since our local airport — a grassy strip — is quite near the Hacienda, they’ll be floating over us, which is lovely.
I took a hot-air balloon ride early one morning in Houston years ago, and I did it with a beautiful woman, which is the best way to be in a big straw basket, floating, as the sun rises.