I am in a village, a beginning of someday larger city. It's tents and open canvas over tables. I have a store where I sell things. It's sort of primitive like an Alaskan camp in the old days. Someone (maybe Aunt Elaine) says, "Let's go down to the house and get what we can." It's a damaged house, maybe winds or fire, and we'll collect what is salvageable. It's an outing. It will be fun. I go get my wallet and pick out little white ceramics of animals. It's a collection, horses standing up rearing and other animals. They were in my change purse in my wallet. There's something about a small bottle of milk. I drink some. (The bottle is like a small apple juice bottle.) Then I try to rinse it out by submerging it in water, either a sink or a toilet. The milk emerges with the water. My mother is there somewhere. Now I'm on a sailboat, and the sail isn't unfurled. Another woman and I (Joni Woodward, in Rachael movie) are on the boat and it's getting dark. We push the boat into a side backwater area because the winds will be high at night; we'll be safe in this little harbor. The woman lies down and I am aware that we are free to spend the night together. There is a feeling of sensuality and forbidden fun. Another woman lies down and I hesitantly join them. Somehow if it were just two, it would be sexual and wrong, but three will be OK, sensual and fun and temporary. There's another sailboat out there, with men on it, two strong virile men. They don't come in for safe harbor, and it's sexual and not OK.