Monday, 20 May 2013

I know, I know... I am making a mountain out of...

a mothball.

Lady Docker aka LL, in furs:
the full length mink, the flying fox draped around her
front row forward shoulders, pulls herself up to her full height
5' 4" in old money.
Let's face it, old money's the name of the game.

All of that paragraph is a totally stonking great fib.
Well to be honest, I have on many occasions been called Lady Docker
and I am 5' 4'.
The furs bit; just the thought gives me a fur-ball moment right in the pit of
my tum.  How anybody could, just defies me.

The reason I came out with that twaddle,
was two-fold, firstly I'm a tart and want to draw folk in,
the second and the reason why I'm having an ugly strop is...

We seem to be experiencing our very own in-house blizzard
of the flying kind.

From 0 - 60 I'll fly off the sofa as a moth flutters gently by.
Snapping my capable hands together for all the world
looking like a Spanish dancer exploding into a frenzied flamenco
I strut my stuff.
The little buggers are everywhere,
I even opened the fridge in the utility room to find one
fluttering over the cold cuts.
Now I know they like wool, although I thought they would draw the line at lamb!
On opening the wardrobe, I just wasn't quick enough to smack the
one that sneakily limbo-danced its way between the light fitting.
I prodded it with a coat hanger until suddenly I thought, is a moth worth
a lightening Dr Who trip to local sub-station... NO!

I've spent a fortune on cedar balls,
moth-exciting traps filled with the moths equivalent of speed,
and the herb killer.  I've even against better judgement 
brought in the heavies by way of...

The war came to an ugly head last night when 
going to bed, there, on my side, were two of them  bonking!
With great glee I did the dastardly deed, 
secure in the knowledge they had at least, died happy.

Now in the past I've written about my love for
worn, torn and tatty clothes.
I think in modern day parlance it's called
deconstructed.  And yes, I ought to own up,
some folk might say I'm a deconstructed sort of a lass,
or put another way...
a cucumber slice short of a Pimms.
However, I like my worn look to be courtesy of me, not a 
frigging band of moths with aspirations of
the Vivienne Westwood kind.


  1. Quote: "With great glee I did the dastardly deed" Please expand...or was that what you said to your partner?

  2. I'm afraid to say I got the twelve bore out from under me bolster, and gave them quick blast... the feathers I'll be dysoning up for decades.


  3. You have my sympathy - especially if, like me, you love natural fibres not synthetic. I've just dealt with a minor carpet beetle outbreak in a woolly hat shoved under youngest son's wardrobe - very worrying as I loath using chemicals.

    1. Yes, wool, linen, cotton all the things a moth feasts on. And like you I hate using chemicals... however needs must!