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The worst of winter was over and we had made it in good health and spirits. Life on the farm would get cushier and cushier. In a little while we could plant crops. The seeds were ordered and on the way. Our expenses would drop to nothing, and we still had a healthy cash reserve. We were home free, not a cloud on the horizon. I got out my trusty horn and played and played. It was like magic. I felt so good I almost started to cry. Home at last.

EDEN. The next morning I was up at the crack of dawn. My stomach felt great, the weather was even warmer than the day before, the sky was an almost summer blue without a cloud anywhere. January? What had been a hint of spring was now overpowering. I fetched some water from the stream and then ambled around our idyllic home waiting for the others to get up and share this gorgeous gorgeous day.

It was really Eden, there was no other way to describe it. Our crazy gamble had paid off. I remembered all the things various people had said about how difficult if not impossible our dreams were. I couldn’t help laughing. I had really done what I set out to do, and it had been so easy. In a way I almost wished it had been harder. I wouldn’t have minded putting in ten or fifteen really bitchy hard years to feel this good. I had fully expected to and it would have been nice to feel I had really earned it. But it felt so good that earned, begged, or stolen didn’t really matter much.

It took forever for the others to get their sleepy selves moving. And when they finally trundled down they hardly seemed to notice what a wonderful day it was. Just to make sure they didn’t miss it altogether, I suggested that it was a fine day to drop a little mescaline. Everyone was game. Down went the little pills. I was fully confident that this trip would be as glorious as my first mescaline trip was horrendous. I was right.

After a big mug of coffee made in our new super-see-through Pyrex glass percolator and seasoned with goat’s milk and honey, I went up to the roof, took my clothes off, and lay in the sun. It was the first time in many wet, cold months that that had been remotely possible. Jack came up and joined me.

We were lying there in a timeless state of peace and contentment when the sound of uncontrollable laughter came from below. I crawled to the edge of the roof. The scene I looked down on was a vision of heaven and peace on earth, harmony-between-all-things. Simon had baked up a batch of crackers and brought them out just as Kathy finished milking the goats. Simon and Kathy were laughing so hard they were crying as they fed crackers to the two nanny goats and the kids. The goats couldn’t get enough; they were prancing around kicking their heels in the air. Zeke was watching the scene, wagging his tail in approval and getting an occasional cracker himself. They were all falling in a big heap of joyous people, goats, and dogs. Spring was definitely coming.

I climbed down, put on my tennis shoes and wrapped a blanket around myself, and went out to join them. Simon and Kathy saw me in my blanket and tennis shoes and started laughing even harder.

“Tennis shoes and a blanket, it’s all I need. I can go anywhere,” I said by way of explanation. Jack came down and we all lazed around on the ground talking about the sun and weather and laughing harder and harder all the time. We looked around at the fields, the mountains, the trees, the house. “This is Eden,” I said. Nobody disagreed.

I turned to Kathy and asked, “Is there a struggle going on?”

“I don’t know. What do you mean?”

“It’s just that I was wondering why people work at shitty jobs, live in ugly places, hate each other, have wars, etc. It really doesn’t make much sense.”

“It does seem a little silly,” she said.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Kathy said after a while.

“There’s no reason why it has to be just today,” I said. “If we want it to, life can be like this even if it rains or snows. It’s all up to us. This is our God-given birthright. I’ll be fucked if I’m going to let go of it.”

“I was wondering when this would