Once upon the now, a Little Old Girl lives alone in the woods. Her many joys include walking with Mother Nature, finding flowers, berries, rose hips, ferns, roots and Miner's Lettuce to eat along the way. When home in her cabin she loves reading great books by candlelight, listening to beautiful music, cooking, writing in her journal, and sitting outside in the dirt with her cat Magic.
She lives alone with a man who protects her from the Wild Beasts of the Big People World. He is really good at his job since she never sees any Wild Beasts from the Big People World. She loves to cook and he loves to eat. His name is Claudio. She gathers, cooks and eats plants only, so if he wants to eat animals he must hunt and cook his own. He also helps her fix the roof, dig holes and carry things around that are big. Because it is his job to protect her from the Wild Beasts of the Big People World, he never sleeps, which is why he behaves rather grouchy most all of the time. He has his own room, work desk, entertainment center, furniture and door. She delivers fruits and vegetables for him to eat.
One day the Little Old Girl reads a book titled, We Are What We Pretend To Be, by Kurt Vonnegut and wishes to take a walk to think about it. Walking and Thinking go well together and sometimes thinking takes a long, long time. She knows where some hot pools live, one near the Green Rubber Boa up at a Mammoth Mountain. She feels this might be a good Thinking Walk. Her protector doesn't need to go since the Wild Beasts of the Big People World rarely visit the Wildness. (The Wild Beasts of the Big People World need to be plugged into their electrical entertainment and communication devices. The Little Old Girl does not share this propensity.)
Off she goes walking with her Mother Earth, exploring the beauty, climbing mountains and visiting the little critters with four feet and furry tails. Two other hot pools are on the way to the Green Rubber Boa Hot Pool so she plans to stop at those along the way and soak in the moonlight.
[ to be continued . . . ]