Feeling the first chills of the season, I got into my boxes of sweaters that I have recently moved back from Ontario. They were all crushed and musty, so I put them all through the wash. It was only then that I found that three of them had been eaten by moths.
Moths were a problem I had up in Toronto. They absolutely destroyed a winter coat of mine, and, like an idiot, I ignored the blonde flies that were on the wall of my Toronto room. They didn't bite and they weren't drawn to the light in my computer, so I ignored them.
Now, back on PEI with holey sweaters, when I saw those same gd flies again and finally cottoned on to the fact that these phenomena may be connected.
Late on Sunday night, I thought, "Oh. I have a box of yarn in my closet. One hundred per cent wool yarn." I flipped over a small nylon bag holding knitting notions, and yes, I saw cocoon tunnels, squirming larvae, and holey skeins of yarn.
I lost 2 skeins of an alpaca/wool blend for socks, another couple pure wool DK from MacAusland's for mitts, and about 6 hours of sleep.
I was pissed because I saw the flies and didn't make the connections, and that I waited so long to check. Also, the thought of flies procreating in my closet and letting their babies feed on my woolens sicked me right out. I'm POed about the waste of money (even though I tend to be a bit of a bargain hunter) and also POed about the loss of potential in the yarn.
Then I thought, "Oh, no!" I remembered my Turkish rug. My Turkish rug I bought in Turkey. It's a small thing, only a little floor mat, but it's hand-tied wool. It cost me quite a bit, although it took about an hour of haggling with two savvy Turks and about 3 tulip glasses of apple tea to get that price. I went down first thing Monday and looked in the storage area. I opened the box and saw cocoons, droppings, and still live larvae.
On recommendation of the interwebs, I cooked the lot of it (well, not the sweaters - the damage was done on those) at 175 Fahrenheit for half an hour. It didn't smell as bad as I thought it would.
The squirmies stopped squirming, but now I have to brush over everything and see how chewed things are. For the yarn, it means checking for damage by balling skeins, re-balling balls; for the sweaters, it means some mending and a shabby chic winter [shudder]; and the rug may be a lost cause - I have to wait until the dry cleaners give me their prognosis. Still, worn rugs have a charm, right? Don't they gain the value the more worn they are? Can I extend "worn" to "threadbare" and profit? =sigh=