Moths and desperate thoughts

Insidious blasted moths! Every night, when we are totally tired, out come a few moths. They flit around the living room, never during a commercial or when one of us is getting up to make the tea. No, they come out when we are zonked, when the cat has just settled in a lap, when the tea is hot or the program in it's final moments.

Where do they come from? I'd like to know too! I have vacuumed the studio umpteen times, vacuumed all the wool and fleece, moved all the wool and fleece, washed and vacuumed all the shelves and drawers, counter tops and baseboards. I have shaken things, moved things, lifted and hauled and toted. I am exhausted. And still, after a marathon of moth searching yesterday, still, another bugger comes meandering by as we struggled not to say something shirty to each other last night.

And try killing one? It rarely is a successful hunt. Our walls are a deep red, our floors a dark oak. Bold moth has to merely avoid the clapping hands that seek it and it will take two old dodderers too long to spy it again. There is no way to clap slowly so that the wind generated by the moving hands doesn't shove the moth along out of harms way. We are so discouraged, we hardly get up anymore. We wait until the moth sort of comes within range, wave vaguely at it and then we think about doing something. And of course, neither of us has the necessary glasses on to see such a small moving target.

Additional fatigue last night was due to a very long walk to and from yoga for me, a long day of meetings for Steve, a triple batch of strawberry jam making for Steve (I did help in a helpful and useful manner by the way), and a lovely young woman doing an interview of us making the jam with 40 minutes of questions following. It was a long evening.

Moths, is there any reason you can't come out earlier in the day? I understand you are nocturnal but I'd appreciate some consideration.

I have expunged a massive amount of yarn and fleece from my studio. In frustration, I have given to the compost box any wool or fleece that did not have an immediate purpose. Odd balls - gone. Two matching balls but no project - gone. Remnants of Floozie the sheep's fleece - gone. Little bitty balls I use to make booties and toys for my mom's charity - gone. I am left with the yarn that I would weep to lose. In my freezer are several skeins and cones of beautiful Jaeger wool/silk blend that is so gorgeous. I am hoping (against all internet search evidence) that the moths will die in the freezer. I know this won't happen. At best the eggs will go dormant and once the yarn warms up again, the cycle will continue. In other words, I will have to sit in the freezer to knit this stuff up until the eggs drop off. Then I will have to put the finished item in a glass, hermetically sealed case and see if anything hatches. Only if not, will I be able to give the knitted item away. Sigh. I need to throw it out, don't I?