Gotta tell you that the two male guineas we bought at the small animal auction in May have answered our most elevated hopes. At least, Beth thinks so, because she got them on the word of something she’d been reading that said guineas were death to squash bugs, and since she thinks those things are her personal enemies especially created from the slime of Gehenna by the Old Boy himself to suck the life out of her Waltham butternuts and strew misery and suffering from roof tree to root cellar, she had to get guineas; and, lo and behold, this summer the bugs wiped out the winter squash crop at the (guinea-free) monastery, but at home, where volunteer squash came up in the compost bins (and everywhere else) and the guineas were free to patrol anywhere they chose, not a nasty little grey critter was to be seen. And the squash and pumpkin vines have been out of control, lush and beautiful, with more and larger fruit that we remember ever seeing. Not only that, but the loopers never really got going on the cabbage and there are thirty to forty beautiful cabbages out there waiting for the first frost, when some will come in and hang in the root cellar and the rest will be made into sauerkraut. You think that has nothing to do with the guineas on patrol?