I've officially made the attempt at saving the limas. It rained HARD last night and I was hopeful, as you suggested, that a good water blast would push them off. There were less this morning, so I hit the remainder with some insecticidal soap and there were fewer of them there this afternoon. I don't know if the vines will recover, but I'm all for giving them three more weeks of TLC to decide what they're going to do before I throw my hands up.
I attempted to get a family picture taken during this year's vacation, but we just couldn't contain those children without straight jackets. One was always running off after a shell or a rock or just grains of sand. We did manage an entire week at the beach without getting fried, however, so I count this as a success.

Of all of the things we did on vacation, both children, oddly enough, were enamoured with the lighthouses that line the Outer Banks. We saw the Bodie Island lighthouse, which was shrouded in cloth and scaffolding for repair, the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse and the Currituck Lighthouse pictured below.

There was an entrance fee to climb this lighthouse and we all stood dutifully in line, bought our tickets and climbed to the first landing. Half way up to that first landing (there are 9 total) my heart started pounding in my ears, my stomach sank, I started to sweat and then came the welling tears for no reason whatsoever.
Then I realized.....I'm terrified of open, plank staircases.

It's just ridiculous. I always was nervous on them and avoided them as a kid and even remember going to the back door of a neighbor's house so as not to have to climb their slotted front steps. My old day care sitter also has backless stairs to her front door and they make me pause, but never panic.
I must say, I freaked slap out with no warning. I watched the boy, girl and man make their way to the second landing and stammered out something about waiting there for them while I tried to contain the tears that were looming on the brink. I gathered my nerves while I read the entire storyboard on that first landing because I knew I had to get down the same steps I just came up. I held my breath, hugged the wall and refused to look at the steps as I descended. Then I allowed myself the luxury of panicking over the boy and girl who made it up and down without a peep of trepidation or whine of lethargy and begged to climb Hatteras the next day.
I suppose old, irrational fears stick deep.
The morning comes early. May your have sweet lima living and not staircase of terror dreams.
MAN, was I terrifed. I can't get over it. For no good reason and no moderate trepidation beforehand. It hit me like cans tumbling from an ill stacked shelf. It was just ridiculous, and I keep playing my reaction over and over in my head and still find it ridiculous. I'm obsessing, obviously.