I'm in my wheelchair, pacing. The engine is always on so I have to keep applying the brakes to stop. I have to be aware of going and stopping all the time. It annoys me. I'd like to have my regular joystick back. I'm on a gravelly, steep driveway. When I get to the top, there is a road. I look across and see huge curtains with huge clothespins on a wire. The construction company has put them up so we can't see what they are doing. I see canopy roofs of cloth that matches the curtains over train cars and buildings. I am concerned what are they doing that requires protection like that, and are they protecting us as well? I doubt it. I decide to go check out my new house. I stop at the door and stand, walking in, thinking (hoping) I had enough energy to manage without the chair. My "roommate" comes to the door and gives me a tour (see drawing in the dream book). I enter the kitchen and look, agreeing with her it is small. Where does the stove and refrigerator go? "Oh, I hate gas," I say. Her head is on one of the burners, which is lit. She likes gas stoves, she says, they work well. I worry about leaking gas. I look through a window down to the living room. She says, "We have to go out this door and around to the door into the living room." I say, "How odd to go outside and around." There is a steep ramp and someone is concerned and wants to hold on to me so I don't slip (I'm in slippers). I make it down, slipping a little. She says to me as we walk, "It must have been wonderful to have time to visit/talk with your mother. I agree and tell her how special and nice it was. "How do I get in?" I ask. My roomie is already in and peers up at me through a square, small hole. "Through that hole?" I ask. "Here, why can't I go through this door?" (a double Dutch door). "Are you going to put furniture against it?" She isn't thrilled, but "OK," she says, "I guess so." I can use the door. I go in and look around. It's very spacious. I say, pleased, "Why there are two, no, three, no, four fireplaces (all in a row) and a piano, no, two pianos?" I exclaim, "This is just like in a dream!" I look at the ornate, green, plush Victorian couches and chairs (overstuffed). She says, "That's my gun over the piano" (I see another gun, a rifle). I see pictures up on the wall and think I'll rearrange them to suit me later. I see a photo collage like my "Germany and Mexico trips" ones. I see a huge group photo of the people I'm currently working with up the hill. It's too big. I'll take it down, later. I suggest, "We could create little centers or rooms in all this space. Over there by the window could be the children's play area; and there, your study area, and we could have communication areas here and there." She agrees. I ask, "What's that room out the windows?" and she says, "The family room." I go out and see it's just an open veranda/porch, not a room at all. A neighbor man waves and starts talking at me. As he walks over, he tells me how he's been hunting for ___ and he names two animals. I don't understand what he called the second animal and he repeats it. (I spell it shire or shrik-mole.) I bend over to hear better and now looking at his head as he talks! (It's on the ground by the porch edge, like he has no body, or he's buried up to his head.) I think to myself, "I'd better not be so pleasant and open or he'll keep coming over and bothering me." I smile my polite, fake smile. I move on to see the end of the porch. I am standing next to a man and a cart of birds that he is plucking. One bird, the one he's working on, is a parrot, not a chicken, and it's very much alive. I feel queasy and don't want to be so close, so I chat with my roomie and try to ignore the process, which is probably painful to the bird. But I can't help but keep one fascinated eye on his hands on the birds legs and the birds eyes as they blink.