Sometimes, the moth hunts YOU.

Today's topic: Lepidopterology (lep-i-dop-tuh-ROL-uh-jee): The study of butterflies and moths.

There are horror tales of Moth Attack out there in the knitting world. Knittn'B's Evil Moth Bastards, Part I and Part II, Yarn Harlot's list of Things, which of course includes Evil Moths (see #99). Okay, yarn gets attacked. But sometimes, the moths attack YOU. Really. It happened to me.

Long ago, my family moved stateside from South Korea - to Pennsylvania, where my dad attended the War College. We came back with lots of amazing, lovely carved furniture from, naturally, South Korea. It was pretty, and I got to keep the very-elaborately carved chest in my room, provided I was careful. I was.

HOWEVER.
That summer, all the eggs that we had carried across the Pacific, unbeknownst to us in the lovely carved chest, HATCHED. We didn't spot anything until it was too late. My bedroom was full of moths ALL summer - flying everywhere. Moths in my underwear drawer. Moths tormenting my hamster. Moths. IN. MY. HAIR!!! when I woke up. Now, being a Tough Army Brat (tm), I didn't want to complain, and since I hadn't quite hit my tweens, I braved it out for a day or two before telling my parents that I thought, just maybe, something odd was happening in my room.

My parents, both of whom had run nature camps in their younger days, realized immediately that "odd" didn't quite cover it; HIDEOUS INFESTATION OF MOTHS was more accurate. Everything in my room was taken outside, plus anything that might hold a moth (sofas, chairs, clothing, etc.), there to decorate the grounds in front of Young Hall in the bright light of day. Moths were exterminated on sight, the apartment was bug bombed (and the Army, back then, had their mitts on some REALLY effective insecticides), and Mom (and more Lysol than the state of Pennsylvania has had since) eradicated them all. I still slept lightly for the rest of the summer, and didn't get a single mosquito bite for the next three years - if it flew near me, I saw it, and it DIED.

I will say that having the Moth Problem made the onset of my teenage years much less traumatic than it is for a lot of girls. Who needs to wallow in teenage angst when they've got MOTHS?

So I'm a bit more relaxed at the thought of seeing a moth in my yarn - it's not trying to attack me. And it won't actually be able to get anywhere near my yarn... from the mothballs around the perimeter of the building (they keep out ants, too) to the cedar blocks and moth-repellent soap chips sprinkled liberally throughout the house, moths just can't survive. I deem these precautions necessary - not so much to prevent moths, but because I really don't want my husband to see me when confronted with a moth. He doesn't think I'm crazy, and I'd like to keep it that way!


A side note: I haven't seen any moths I'd actually consider allowing to live since... until the pretty pic of the Elegant Sheep Moth.


(Mind you, it might still freak out if I see it in person... but in photograph form, it's OK. And I'm a bit weirded out that there's an entire group dedicated to Moth Photography but I'll chalk it up to being a case of needing to Identify The Enemy Properly.)