In Search of Moths

By Jim Hagarty
2017

I just got home after an hour’s drive from Huron County to Stratford. I had both front windows of the car rolled down as the air conditioner has decided to take a permanent holiday and it was pretty steamy inside the vehicle.

For most of the way, there was an odd smell wafting through the night air. I couldn’t identify it but it seemed familiar. Finally, I realized what it was. It was the smell of moth balls and I wondered if I was driving by some of the resplendent moth ball fields in our area.

I recognized the smell from a long time ago when, as a boy, I often visited my friend’s home where moth balls were liberally placed anywhere where there might be clothing. So, the smell tonight was just like that smell but I couldn’t be sure.

So I looked out the window all the way home and not seeing any moths in my travels, not even one, I knew then that the moth ball farmers in my area could look forward to bumper crops this summer.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.