I’m alone for a few days, which means the house is far too tidy and I’m the only one on bug patrol. Given that these are the first crisp days of autumn, wild creatures are seeking a comfy place to spend the winter, and there is brisk cricket traffic in here.

I have nothing against crickets, as long as they know their place, which is outside. But when they — especially the branch of the family known as cave crickets or sprikets, with their hefty bodies and long, spidery legs — hop into the house, they need to be dispatched quickly.

I know women whose husbands have a soft spot for bugs and will not kill them. This is not my situation. If I run into a spriket on the kitchen floor, I have eradication backup.

But for the next few days, I’m on my own. I have pressed heavy books into service — yearbooks, cookbooks, whatever is hefty and on hand. Since the critters hop toward whatever is frightening them, I generally just throw the book at them. So far, it’s Anne 2, Sprikets 0. I hope my winning streak continues.

(No spriket photos here!)