From an asphalt-driveway-cracks-annually-sealed, back-yard-fenced, front-lawn-meticulously-maintained, resolutely middle-class, 2,153-sqaure-foot (200 square meters) split-level home in King of Prussia (a suburb of Philadelphia) to a cozy-on-demand, 646-sqaure-foot (60 square meters), metal-roofed log cottage in the woods, just outside the town of Marshville (36 miles – 58 km – southeast of Charlotte) in the rural farmland swath of Union County (south-central North Carolina). As 49-year-old, cinnamon-blonde-haired, hazel-eyed Amanda sipped her hot herbal tea on a mild May (2016) morning, she wondered: How in the world did I ever wind up here? Could never have imagined this as a small girl in Pennsylvania. Though, I’m so glad that I’m here now. I’m all set. I’m here – in splendid sylvan seclusion – right where I wanted for a self-sufficient solitary life of writing, music, art, and mapmaking. I surely have it now. Mission accomplished. No more fulltime job – can just work when I want at the local elementary school. No more mortgage. No more car payment. No more noise, save for the evening crickets and cicadas. No more annoying neighbors. No kids. And, no man. Not even a single relative within 500 miles [805 km] of me. Nope, no familial or relationship entanglements to worry about. None at all.