In other news...the cricket.

On Wednesday morning, I went into the ladies' restroom in the shop to brush my teeth before the shop boys arrived at eight.

A ginormous cricket stared up at me from the sink.

I screamed.

Using the other sink to brush my teeth, I hurried back to the RV to finish getting ready for the day. At this point, I was still thinking about going into work, so I dressed for work but wore my swimsuit underneath. Other plans had already started brainstorming in my mind. (More on that later.)

But this isn't about Wednesday or brainstorming. This is about the cricket. I could not go about my day knowing a cricket was helplessly stranded in the sink. Would it die? Would someone kill it?

I went back to the sink and tried to build a bridge of paper towels so it could get out.

The cricket jumped away, straining to climb the sides of the far side of the sink before sliding back down.

"That's why you need to use the towels. Climb out," I said, moving a paper towel in front of the cricket and hoping it wouldn't jump at me.

The cricket eventually caught on and climbed to the edge of the sink. It started at me from the edge.

With a big breath, I blew it off the edge of the sink onto the floor. I didn't want to worry about it slipping back into the sink.

On Thursday morning, the cricket was back...in the same sink. This time when I built a paper towel bridge, it knew what to do and climbed out. Again, I blew it off the edge.

On Thursday afternoon, the cricket clung to the wall.

This was getting to be a thing. Would the cricket be back on Friday morning?

Early on Friday... before getting out of bed, I read about cricket care. I wanted to be prepared. People keep them as pets and to serve as food to lizards, so there's plenty of information out there. They need water. They're carnivores, but they also like bananas, apples, and lettuce. They eat fabric. They eat dog food. When times get tough, they become cannibals and eat other crickets.

If Crickee was still there, she'd get a piece of dog food. (I decided the cricket is female. It's not really as large as the first impression it made. And...it doesn't sing a mating song by rubbing its wings like the male crickets do when temps are above 55-degrees fahrenheit. The garage stays at 60-degrees, and the bathroom is even warmer. If Crickee was male, wouldn't it chirp?

When I went into the ladies' restroom on Friday morning, the cricket wasn't in the sink. Instead, a spider twice the size of Crickee startled when I stood over the sink.

What is it with insects in this sink?

I looked around for the cricket, but I didn't see it anywhere. I hoped the spider didn't eat it!

Ever a friend to spiders, I built a paper towel bridge. The spider didn't need coaxing. It climbed the towels then dropped down over the edge itself.

On Friday night, I entered the insectarium (i.e. the ladies' restroom) to see what was happening.

The spider was gone. Crickee was on the floor in one of the stalls. I was happy to see she survived the spider.

I splashed some water on the floor and hurried back to the RV to get a dog-food nugget.

And that's where things stand right now.