It is my sad duty to report that the squash are blooming. Physical, chemical, and spiritual weapons seem powerless in the face of this plant. We are resigned to destruction. While my NGP stands guard with his .12 gauge (thank you, George, for the suggestion), warnings have been sent to the following: Sheriff: His response, "Well, hell lady, I grow tomatoes for profit and I'd be a low down varmint if I ever knocked growing something bigger or more resistant to shipping I always say, the bigger the tomato (or squash) the greater the profit. I'm a Miracle Gro man myself.." Mayor: Her response, "Miz Pat, what a wonderful tourist attraction this will be. I'll get right on the Visitor's and Convention Bureau and I know they will arrange for parking, publicity, and all those other good stuffs." Chief of Police: "Save a couple of those squash for me and the boys. I'm right partial to a mess of squash cooked with Velveeta and topped with Ritz cracker crumbs." County Agent: "Be sure to save a few seeds for me to pass around to these dudes who have moved here from the big cities. There is nothing more fun than funnin' the tenderfeet" F.D.A.: "You planted WHAT? You had no permit. The EPA, ESA, FBI, NATO, KKK, and BSA all have warrants for your arrest." * * * * * * We are reduced to sitting quietly and remembering all of the good times. Sort of like the musicians on the Titanic, we'll play on until we go down for good. Your sympathies and encouragements, and our memories WILL sustain us through this dark time or to the End. Pat