In the immortal words of my old school pal, Steverino (alas, dead in Vietnam), on the occasion of an univited visit of my sister to our treehouse (a real, splendid fortress): "Peter, we have a choice here, do we fumigate, or leave?" (We fumigated, sprinkling Coke on the floor). He had a terrible crush on my sister which never amounted to anything, and I guess never will, now. Yours, Peter