Anyone who uses the expression, “I slept like a baby” should be shot! Ok, that seems a bit harsh – forgive me. I didn’t get a good night’s sleep…thanks to Jiminy Cricket. Normally the sound of crickets chirping outside would bring back memories of the long dark nights at my Grandmother’s house in the country. The crickets, joined by the tree frogs and bull frogs, would lull me to sleep long before the moonlight crept across the floor. But last night, though there may have been many crickets chirping cheerily, they sang in unison…one note…very loud!
I am cursed with being a “light” sleeper, meaning I hear every little noise. I’m also cursed with a nature that NEEDS to know what exactly is making that noise. It seemed ridiculous to sleep with an electric fan on beside me when it was so deliciously cool outside, so I opened the windows.
I managed to get to sleep despite the inconsiderate, self-centred teenagers on my street. I don’t think all teenagers are inconsiderate or self-centred, but the ones on my street take great delight at standing half a block apart and carrying on conversations well-above “outdoor” voice level, and with as many expletives as possible to make sure you’re paying attention. I usually sleep through the freight trains (they rock my bed if they’re heavy enough) and thankfully, there were no drag races, late night parties with screaming kids, crying racoons, cats in heat, or dog choruses. We’re pretty sure the drug dealers who lived on our street have moved to another location. And our neighbour is finally feeling secure enough in her home to turn off the lamppost in her front yard, so my room was no longer as bright as mid-day. But Jiminy…Jiminy was game to serenade me. From the bedroom, it sounded like he was in the front flower bed. From the bathroom, at the back of the house, he sounded like he was in the back garden. I considered putting on my winter boots and going for a stroll in the garden, front or back, but I haven’t had great luck when I go outdoors in my pjs (see Sexy Pjs )…and there are enough strange people on my street without adding myself to that list.
I turned on the fan, medium speed to drown him out…then put a pillow over my head…but he just got louder. It was as if we were mentally connected and he was employing psychological warfare. Eventually I gave up, closed the window, and left the fan on…but he made a fatal error…he jumped on me when I was doing some weeding in the front flower bed. He may have won that battle, but when I return from our mini vacation, I’m going to win the war!