110601 Megan called me up in the middle of the night. I was in my (den) room at moms. Don answered the phone. We didnt know who she was, were slightly scared. Talked of voodoo. Don said the more priveleged practitioners, to get the same powers as the naturally-powered serfs or peasants, would carry the bones of a possum with them. There was something about cancer. She must have talked to him for a few minutes. One of the things she said was that my next favorite music was going to be American. You know, like Winnie-the-Pooh. My room turned into a solarium/greenhouse/garage. With venetian blinds. It was still night but crepuscular in what seemed to be the West--toward California. Don was still there. I rolled the glass-paneled door down, but blocked the last few inches open with two blocks of wood. Blinds down but horizontal so as to see through. Looked West. With some trepidation called silently to the spirit of Megan, in case she wanted to visit me. As I was getting in bed, Don made himself comfortable on the floor. Surprised and gratified, I gave him pillows and my grandma quilt. In pickup truck with Dan and some other guy. Me by passenger window. Felt good riding on country roads. Dan made me laugh. We passed some guy in a big old American car (we were on a dirt road now, going down towards dusky dusty old oak woods) who got in an argument with a cop who chanced to drive by. We passed on by. Then, walking in the woods with a small group of family, including a female presence much like Ann. A puppy came up and sniffed us. Scrappy, medium-sized, short hair, grey-white-tan-brown, pointy ears, small head. We laughed. Then there were maybe a dozen of them, coming up the wooded slope toward the ridge our trail was on. Looked down. People were coming. Another family? With a bigger, older, longhaired dog like a collie or shepherd. Im apart from the others now but still connected. A little girl approaches me. White dresslike thing on. Blonde hair a little mussed, almost to her shoulders. Pale skin, light eyes, eyebrows high, face a little sad but not despondent. She hands me some things: left hand: twig, old greybarked knotty, ca. 3 long. twig, green slickbarked like sassafrass, ca. 2 1/2 and splitting open lengthwise. puffball-like thing, ca. 1 diameter, vivid orange growth or blossom projecting from one side. something else (?). right hand: something else, bigger, quieter. I asked her if these would help protect me, she said yes. Even as I was asking her name, I knew the answer: Megan. I said, Whats your last name, darlin? She said, Hmmph! As if were going to tell you THAT! With the things she had given me I went over by the path again. Chris was sitting there, a few feet farther along. He was holding before him a HUGE beautiful pumpkin. It was like 3 feet high! We didnt speak, CJ & I, but were connected. I squatted before the pumpkin, put my hands on it, and my forehead, sighed. Saw that was glowing orange against me! I felt sad but accepting, melancholy but peaceful. I wondered if the orange part of the puffball had something to do with cancer. On waking, 4:35 am in this world-- I am chilled with excitement and fear! Will I talk to her again? How many forms can she assume? Is she related to Anns Zee? Am I going to get cancer? At least its not contagious. Is Megan the girl in that other dream, when I walked into and under the murky water of an old gym class swimming pool, and she beckoned to me, seemed ghostly, wore white also, wanted to kiss me (and tell me something?) but I was too afraid and fled! Does she live in my mind or elsewhere? Both? Will I talk to her again!?