Last week two moths were sitting on the wall in our bathroom. This is how one would start a joke – right? Well, it was no joke and (trust me) I am never in a laughing mood, when it comes to moths … Instead, I remember being slightly irritated (why did they choose the bathroom?) but not troubling too much about it (spring, open window, big garden). Where ever they came from, they did not survive the trip to our house.
The next day, there were three in the stairwell. Another two in the bathroom (all of them dead by now). Again: not scary, but irritating. Hence, I put moth paper everywhere, closed all windows, inspected the cabinets and finally – Saturday morning – asked the man to climb the ladder to the attic (he hates it) and see what it looks like up there.
Gut feeling, I guess, as we redid the roof in 2016 and there is not much up there. A box or two with Christmas ornaments, some stuff, two rugs, a lamp. To be honest, I expected the man to step down the ladder in less than 2 minutes. Instead, he called me: “Can you come up for a minute?” …
One of the rugs was a rug skeleton at most. Its top – ALIVE! A flying carpet, so to speak. CREEPY! I filled two vacuum cleaner bags in no time. Small hatch to the attic, thick rugs, not small, had to be rolled up and carried all the way down and out of the house. It took forever. We would then vacuum clean and whip the undamaged rug, sweep and mop and brush the attic, the staircase, the hallway, everything, until every single moth was killed or had escaped. Monday morning one rug was picked up for cleaning, the “rug skeleton” is gone forever.
No moths since then. Not a single one. I would have told them a thing or two. They must be hiding.
I know, it could have been worse. Fortunately, something made me go through my stash in March, look at every single skein or ball, sort it, take pictures, list it on ravelry, pack it in a zipper bag and later in plastic boxes.
As much as I hate plastic – lucky me! That is to say, the moths did not get even a tiny bit of yarn as there wasn’t any available to them.
However, I have checked every single bag since then. It won’t hurt … No surprise, that I did not knit a lot these last few days. Still, there is a new test knit on my needles. Stichfest came up with a new sock pattern. It’s called wavelength. I will write more about it once the pair is done. For now, there is only a picture of a halfway finished (first) sock, slipped on a spoon, made of olive wood (hardly a substitute for needles of that same material, I know).
It’s a beautiful pattern – that’s for sure. Whether design and variegated yarn will do each other good remains to be seen.
Be it as it may, I can’t get those yarn-devouring bugs out of my mind. Just the thought of what could have happened … Therefore, make sure your stash is safe! You may want to check now (now, not later).
Better be safe than sorry. And if you’d like to read some more about other knitters‘ thoughts on moths have a look at Karen’s (over at Fringe Association) latest blog post and read all comments.
I’ll go back to knitting.
Bei allem: Glück im Unglück – irgendwas hat mich schon im März dazu gebracht, einfach mal alle Wolle, jedes einzelne Knäuel, anzugucken, zu sortieren, zu photographieren, in Ravelry einzugeben, in Tüten zu packen und dann in Plastikboxen. Lucky me – oder? Das heißt, die Motten haben tatsächlich kein Fädchen erwischt, weil einfach keins verfügbar war.
Hence, we bought a small, old house not far from where we used to live. We had no idea what it meant to own a house. In short: there is always something that needs to be done (and paid for). Of course, we wanted to stick to our promise, pave the driveway and assemble a portable hoop, but every time we had enough money, something else came along. And that something else was always absolutely essential. After a storm, we had to cut down enormous fir trees before they fell over, we had to redo the roof …
Only later in the car, after I had taken her to the airport, it finally clicked: Small steps!
Yes, we still need to do the basement. And the driveway. Eventually, we will do both. One at a time.
For last week, all that pink became too heavy and the beautiful tree broke apart. Just like that. At least one third could no longer hold up its flowers.
Four months of hexagons, one third of 2018, 120 days – packed in bags. January. February. March. April. One per day – that’s the plan. More and more, this 
If it didn’t have that smack of „capitulating“, maybe I would have stopped long ago.