Butternut squash: Will I get a miracle harvest?

First of all:  It was 63° when I woke up this morning, with the temperature for today getting up into the 80's.  I put a different picture of my view toward the north when I look out the window or work in the garden.  I love it because there are no buildings of any kind in view, meaning no people... unless you want to walk a mile through the Missouri River bottoms and swim to the the other side.  I was sick of seeing that garden picture, and I'm sure my readers were too.  

We've now had our first tomatoes from the garden and the first potatoes and green beans.  The peas are gone now, and I pulled the plants up.  I am moving soaker hoses from row to row, trying to keep things growing.  Yes, I know I said I wasn't going to do that.  It isn't so bad in one way, because half the garden isn't planted in anything.  I can only do so much.  I will say I'm enjoying what I have eaten so far, but a lot of the fun is in watching things grow.  For instance, the butternut squash:

The one on the left is about six inches long.  I counted ten baby squash so far.

I'm scared to count on a harvest though.  Squash bugs have ruined most of my squash and cucumbers.  Once, many years ago, I got a huge harvest of butternut squash and had plenty to eat all winter long.  That's when I learned that I could substitute butternut squash for pumpkin that year.  In fact, I made pumpkin pies on Thanksgiving day and my very picky oldest granddaughter, after eating hers, said, "Now that's what pumpkin pie should taste like."  I told her it was squash and she hasn't trusted me since.  

Anyhow, I have been putting plenty of diatomaceous earth over and under the vines, so we'll see if that keeps the bugs out.  I do know that Sevin Dust does nothing to keep squash bugs away; it's an aphrodisiac, from what I've seen: ugly bugs under the leaves doing embarrassing dances until all the vines are dead.  I hope against hope for a wonderful harvest.

A few days ago I watched a documentary on Hulu, "Robin Williams:  Come Inside My Mind".  Toward the end of the story, he said something that really clicked with me:   You're only given a little spark of madness, and if you lose that... you're nothing.    

The reason it spoke to me is this:  We are all different, of course.  But I'm more different than most.  I don't want the things most people want.  I don't like to do the things most folks like to do.  I won't go into boring detail, but if you were to ask my husband, he'd tell you it's the truth.  However, if it weren't for my king-sized spark of madness, I would have had a miserable life, so I hang onto it carefully.  If the madness is gone, nobody will recognize me.

And on that thought, let me show you my youngest great-granddaughter whose spark has led her to become one of the Children of the Corn, right in my garden.