I started to move a few things around in my bedroom closet yesterday afternoon. I plucked a few of my husband’s suit jackets from the hanging rack at the back of our closet and that’s when I noticed… his arms of his wool suit jackets were covered in mold. MOULD! Lots of SPORE-covered MOULD laced the arms of his jackets where they touched the back wall of the closet.
Damn Vancouver rainy season that lasts ten months. Damn Vancouver condos that are sealed up so tight nothing can breathe. Damn mouldy-mould that likes to grow in damp, cool, airless conditions. Damn damn damn.
I’ve not been paying too close attention to our level of stuff lately, probably because we haven’t been accumulating much and things are as minimal as they’ve ever been (unless you open the hall closet, then: look out). We’ve been continuing to collect our plastic waste in our bathtub, which sure serves as a great reminder to limit unnecessary consumption, but we’ve not been living an austere life. We’ve been enjoying the summer weather, and have spent time travelling within our beautiful province, hitting the beach, visiting our local parks and even frequenting touristy venues for which we have memberships. All in all, it’s been a great summer.
So perhaps the time was right for the mould to take hold. My husband had not been wearing any of his jackets during the spring and summer months. I’d been ignoring the last few bins of stuff hiding on the closet floor.
But let me tell you, discovering that mould was like lighting a fire under my ass.
I spent a few hours last night throwing mold-ridden clothing away and salvaging two suit jackets of my husbands that just had a tiny amount of moldy dust on them from the other jackets that were harder hit. Then I felt the urge to purge. I purged an additional two large garbage bags of clothing in good condition (most of it was from the kids’ closet, which is in a separate room) and took it all to donation this morning. I feel better, but still icky.
The thought of mold in our house was enough for me to consider for a fleeting moment a desire to get rid of everything. My husband’s reaction to having to throw away hundreds of dollars in mould-covered clothing was telling – he asked if anything could be saved and we threw the rest away without a moment’s thought. As soon as we knew that mould was involved, it took us half a second to make the decision to part with the stuff.
Why don’t those impulses fire as quickly when there’s not an immediate threat? Why do we wait until there’s a crisis to deal with something? The decision is much easier then, I suppose.
I’m grateful that this incident was limited to a few wool jackets. I’m grateful that it wasn’t worse, and I’m so thankful we caught this problem while it was still small. We’ll be painting the back wall of our closet with mould resistant paint and see what happens. What we won’t be doing is replacing any of my husband’s lost clothing – he’ll be wearing the two remaining jackets in his closet, because two jackets are enough. Minimalism for the win!
Have you ever struggled with mould in your home? I know it’s not a savoury topic, but comments are welcome!