Yesterday I saw two moths on the second floor of my place. They appeared to be courting in the air. Not for long, though. They ended up between my expert hands. Bang, bang. My oriental rugs mean too much to me to be sentimental about the little buggers. Today I bought a small arsenal of moth repellents and killers. The first step was to spray the two bedrooms on the second floor, where the rugs are on display. Before I closed all the doors, the place was aflutter with insects. Panic. There were many more of them than I had expected. A little later, while I was having dinner on the first floor, I spotted an intrepid moth fly in through the livingroom door. It went straight for the fireplace behind me and up the chimney. Perhaps it was led by the draft, but it might be cleverer than that. Fireplaces have been around long enough for them to learn a few tricks. It might have plunged into my neighbors’ chimney as soon as it got out of mine. Until they spray their place and the game repeats itself, of course. We are pretty clever, but I have a nagging feeling the moths are always a step ahead of us. And that is the only step that really matters.