(01/15/00)["Loving solitude."] I am in a store where candles and pretty glass things are sold. I am maybe 30 something and good looking. Healthy. I am wearing cutoffs and a short top. I have decided to live my life as a wanderer without possessions. To travel light. I have a small light guitar to carry strapped on my back, like a minstrel. I look at the neck of the guitar and notice the large wide neck. I try and will it more narrow so my hands can manage it. I go outside it is the beach. I lie own on my tummy in the sand. Enjoying the lovely day. A good looking man comes over and sits with me and we talk about writing. I decide to show him how I do it. So he and two children walk toward my new house which is built in a secluded part of the beach far away from other people. as we walk, the beach trail/road is covered with vegetation and we keep walking through it. Then the sandy road is visible again. Now we are in a car, sort of 1950's sedan. I drive. We arrive at the house and I pull up in front of the double garage to the left of the large spacious log house. Dark rich woods. We get out and I go into the garage where all the animals I help heal up are there. Lots of baby pigs pink and cute, and black and white spotted are there, in hay nests in a row. A baby chick is there. I pet it. The children love being with the animals. The black and white one limps badly from his old wounds I healed him up from. So they have residue problems from their health problems. They are happy and free of pain here with me/. I take the man and the children around to the front of the house the porch is long and wide, a wonderful place to sit and think. I go into the living room where the room is filled with furniture wonderful old fashioned overstuffed couches 3 of them and round oak tables dining tables like Grandma Maude's stuff. 3 or 4 of them. Now I go into another room light and airy and show the man about my writing and music.