We've been having a problem with moths for the last six months - not the feline Moth (who was, indeed, named in part because she was born during the Miller Mothageddon last summer, and is moth colored), but the kind whose larvae nibble your clothes and other things - including, apparently, this bird hanging. I can't see any sign of them on it now, to be sure, but Alice swears they were there this week, so it's been banished outside, I refuse to throw it out: it's not that I wasn't ruthless today (a pair of walking shoes, an embroidered cushion cover, and a camera bag - all at the bottom of my closet, all bearing heavy tell-tale signs - all went), but it has sentimental value. I bought it in Delhi - oh gosh, oh dear, twenty years ago - and I've always liked to have it hanging somewhere. Twenty years ago? I keep recounting, and it keeps coming out the same.
If anyone has any patent moth remedies, do tell. We have lavender sachets everywhere, and leave suspicious items for 24 hours in the freezer, and dry clean others. We think the original culprit was a wool/wood Peruvian sheep from the Folk Art Market a couple of years back. Poor sheepy - he had to go.
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