The battle lines have been drawn; not in the sand, but definitely in the mohair and cashmere. And I, a woman who can barely manage a single push up, have been transformed into a warrior. My sworn enemy? The cunning little Tineola bisselliella (or clothing moth as he’s more commonly known). My field of combat, the neatly folded knitwear in my closet.
Strategically, I’m not quite sure what my next move should be. Dry cleaning is a known moth slayer, but having every piece of fabric in my apartment dry-cleaned is neither practical nor financially viable. Likewise, extreme heat and cold act as deterrents, but would dishearten me long before it discouraged the moths. Of course, there’s always chemical warfare – but I can’t help but feel that anything that would poison the enemy would certainly not do me any good. Which brings me back to last year’s unsuccessful mothball; perhaps this year I should use them as missiles and throw them at my foe…
