This means war
My house has a moth problem. They are everywhere. They have eaten kilts and medieval dresses, fabric and knitting.
They chewed on my husbands drinking sweater while it was still on the knitting needles. They have ravaged my handspun wool.
But today was the final straw. My hand knit alpaca lace shawl, the one I slaved over and sweated blood into and had lifelines for and ripped back to make perfect. There are holes. Plural. It was on the couch, not hidden away, out in the open air with circulation and supervision. They no longer care to hide their evil, they come right out with it.
So this is it. I'm armed with a mean temperament, vacuum bags and a pretty damn good and environmentally friendly dry cleaner. I know I can't drive them away completely, but I'm not going down without a fight.
They chewed on my husbands drinking sweater while it was still on the knitting needles. They have ravaged my handspun wool.
But today was the final straw. My hand knit alpaca lace shawl, the one I slaved over and sweated blood into and had lifelines for and ripped back to make perfect. There are holes. Plural. It was on the couch, not hidden away, out in the open air with circulation and supervision. They no longer care to hide their evil, they come right out with it.
So this is it. I'm armed with a mean temperament, vacuum bags and a pretty damn good and environmentally friendly dry cleaner. I know I can't drive them away completely, but I'm not going down without a fight.