Yesterday I took a tour of my weed-choked garden to discover that someone had eaten all the peas. One day they were innocently twining their way up the little trellises I so carefully placed for them, getting ready to flower, enjoying the sun and rain, and the next they are nothing but stumps. This sense of futility echos--in a way so trivial and minute that I hope it's not insulting--what I feel when I read Egghunt's news. Hope and potential and life...gone in the blink of an eye. I'm so sorry, my friend.