Attack of the forty foot cucumbers.

It sounded like such a great idea: I'll plant cucumbers in the garden this year. That way I'll be able to can my fabulous dill pickles without having to lug a bushel of them home from the farmer's market. I picked up a packet of cucumber seeds, planted them with great care, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And then one day, I blinked. And when I opened my eyes again, there were cucumbers everywhere. Their greedy green tendrils had taken over the garden, snarling themselves in my carrots, wrapping themselves around my eggplants, choking out my raspberry bush and all but burying my lonely watermelon vine. And the garden takeover wasn't enough for them, oh no. They soon clawed their way out of the confines of the garden and onto the lawn. Before long they were working their way up the fence, and soon began plotting their takeover of the neighbor's yard. (Fair enough...they send us their ant problem, I'll be glad to let them incur the wrath of our cucumber army).  In my nightmares, I tear open the shower curtain to find the bathtub filled with cucumbers.

Seriously. I harvested a nice pile of cukes a few days ago, made cucumber sandwiches and cucumber lemonade until I turned green and when I went to check the garden last night I found these:

What. The. Heck.  Where were these hiding?  And then, tonight, after picking all of those last night I found a giant beluga whale of a cucumber sneaking out the side of the garden.  The thing was the size of my arm - how did I miss that last night?

Where is the "off" button on the cucumber patch?

Also, anyone need any cucumbers?