Shoshana vs.The Insects, round one

Old houses set into expansive well-manicured grounds surrounded by rolling hills and verdant forests attract a lot of things. Retirees, school-children, antiquers, minivans, the fanny-packed: these are all examples of the types of creatures who are drawn inside of Grey Towers by the allure of old furniture, older stone, and the chance to look at a rich man's water closet. But do you know what else is attracted to old houses? BUGS. All that delicious wood and textiles, the lovely nooks and crannies that are just perfect for setting up a webbed house, the dark hulking furniture and hugeness of the structure, the fabulous damp that rises up through the flagstones; these and more are all good reasons for the creepy-crawlies of the world to migrate to Grey Towers and play house. A large portion of historic housekeeping and preventative conservation is battling bugs. Today, I was on the front lines.

My first skirmish was with two spiders I found lurking in the fireplace of the Great Hall. Large and thin, they were hiding out under the grate. I went at them with a plastic cup and a peice of Grey Towers paper paraphanalia (all I had near me at the time, and time was of the essence so I couldn't run to get better equipment.) Fittingly, the newsletter was about invasive bug species in the area. Unfortunately, I wasn't fast enough, and one got away completely while the other crawled to an area I couldn't get at.

Then there was the large beetle-like creature that scurried past me on my way to the visitors desk to drop off the bug-catching materials I had borrowed from them. I yelped when I saw it and dove to get the little bugger, but he was too fast. I was disappointed, but reminded myself that he was on the visitor's office side of the carpet and thus technically not crossing the border into historic room territory, where he could do real damange.

My final encounter was with a moth, who was fluttering weakly on the old oak staircase leading from the Great Hall to the second floor. As his wings flapped lethargicallyI saw my opportunity and pounced, catching him in the plastic-cup-grave I had intended for the spiders. Feeling accomplished but strangely sad (I suppose I feel some sympathy for my fallen enemies), I carried him up to the curatorial office on the third floor for my boss to see.

So, here is the count: Bugs-2, Shoshana-1. But never fear... they'll be dropping like flies (pun!) on Friday when I bring out the VACUUM.

In other animal notes: I saw a black bear yesterday! He scampered across the parking lot in front of the curatorial storage building while I sat in the government SUV next to my boss, who pointed and yelled, "BEAR!" It was probably the highlight of my day.

And the job begins

This morning I started my first real curatorial/historic-upkeep job, by dusting. Yes, dusting. Still, dusting is important to historic collections. In fact, it can be argued that regular cleaning can do more to preserve historic objects than any preservation attempt made after the damage. I dusted in the Great Hall, the main entrance to the house and the room that is probably most prone to dust. The dangerous combination of visitors tromping in and out (and touching things they shouldn't and adjusting knick-knacks AND SITTING ON THE ANTIQUE CHIPPENDALES, arrgghh!) and heavy dark wood furniture that shows everything means that it requires the most work. It was surprisingly fun - working my way around the very valuable furniture. duster in gloved hand, being extra careful and precise so as not to damage anything. I felt like I was doing Important Work, when really I'm just a glorified housekeeper.

I imagine that it will become boring after a while, though, even if I only have to dust and swiffer every couple days, so I have taken to naming the furniture I work on. So far I have Balthazar (a big 19th century European chest/hutch thing, hulking and intricately carved), Armando (named so because he is an armoire of sorts, matching in style to Balthazar) and the Bobbsy Twins (two elaborate throne chairs with velvet upholstery and faces of important historical figures carved into the wood around the back. ) I'm still working on a name for a blue-green painted cabinet brought back from the South Pacific in the 1920s, so any suggestions would be welcome.