Jumpin' Jiminy

Crickets outside are soothing; crickets inside drive me up a freaking wall, and since I have only eight-foot ceilings, I don't have all that far up the wall to go.

By chance, though, while climbing said walls last night, I found two of the little buggers: inside (sort of) the light in the hallway, which is one weird period piece of a fixture. It descends from the rafters, but doesn't quite make it to the ceiling; in the ceiling itself, there's a square hole, a frame around it, and a sliding glass plate to seal it up. (There's another one in the living room.) The crickets had apparently been dancing around the attic and wound up on that plate, where their every movement was amplified into Scary Stomps.

It occurred to me, at some point during the approximately 0.9 second I had to move the plate horizontally, drop the insects to the floor, and arrest their forward motion, that a baton twirler might have been more effective wielding the broom than I had been.