Let’s kick off summer with sweet sleep and dreams. Here, we go! First, I was with Ron’s cousin Katie and a blonde girl. We were going on a trip, and I was the driver. Our means of transport was an old brown gutted trailer. I was trying to put the driver’s seat just right. Katie and I were acting as if it was a bus. The seat was not riveted to the floor. We moved it against some screen windows as if I could drive it from there. There was no steering wheel.
The next dream was dark and epic enough for me to try to use it for DOC. It took place in a hotel in Gettysburg where I think Mummy and I worked. There were three guests, a pretty blonde woman and her tall handsome husband and a young Marine who was rather small with a buzz cut. The place was laid out like a grand ancient lodge. It was lit by lamplight with old wooden furnishings and taxidermied animals. The lobby had the red glow that often accompanies my dreams. The large intricately carved dark wooden check in counter was the center of the place, the rooms branched off in a circular pattern. There was a lounge directly in front of the counter covered in a white sheet with fancy throw pillows. The next morning the Marine was ill, faint. I helped him back to his bed and offered him breakfast. I felt very bad for him and wanted him to stay another night, telling him to call off work. The blonde woman was haunted as well. She laid on the white couch while her husband joined Mummy and I behind the counter. The couple were dressed old-fashioned. The woman wore a gorgeous long white ruffled, form fitting, cotton frock. Her husband wore a green velvet jacket with a rust colored brocade vest. He said that one of the taxidermied animals had come to life during the night, backing up his wife’s story about a haunting. I told him that the bear often came to life. The Marine was getting ready to check-out despite my wishes. I wanted to give him my contact information. I had old postcards and slips of embossed heavy brown paper in the pigeon holes of the counter or front desk. None of my ink pens worked so I had to resort to pencil stubs. I wrote down a phone number. I told him I hoped that it was the right one, but wasn’t sure. I gave him a postcard with a print of a woman in a white gown with a fan lounging on a boat. The card had a lacy white scalloped border. His coach awaited him outside.
Ron was my costar in the third dream. We were out, and I had my queen bee bag that Susan had gotten me on my right shoulder. It was full of stuff and very heavy. I had a pulled muscle along my left thigh, my groin. The combination of the two forced me to walk very slowly with a limp. We were on the edge of a busy highway, it was afternoon. A white cinder brick diner was across the street to our right. Our apartment building, which looked like an old fifties style motel, lay directly in front of us. I was trying to cross the street, but was having a very difficult time not getting hit by a car. I was crawling, as I moved faster than walking. I called to Ron. Across the street, in front of the diner, was a tall wooden shelving unit with scalloped woodwork. The top shelf belonged to Ron and me. I was decorating it seasonally with a leprechaun and a little doll. A young white man with dark hair, wearing a black rock band t-shirt, was put out with me. He wanted to put his advertising material on the shelf which was situated in front of the busy diner. A fat white man in a long sleeved white Yale t-shirt, (Yale was printed in blue, orange, and yellow bordered letters), was giving me a hard time. I responded with a shitty comment about Yale. I took some of the advertising materials. One of the magazines had Zak Bagans from Ghost Adventures on the cover, it was sealed in plastic. The vignette was black and orange. Zak had a skull or a candle, or both. I thought, oh brother, still, I placed it alongside my dolls, to the right, with a pile of white papers, the rest of the ads. The wind blew all of the advertisements away. Now I had to cross the street again, to our apartment. The lobby had windows and metal postboxes. The door to the main hallway had a metal handle and lock.
The final dream, which I nearly forgot, was of me making a video with Ron and my grown son. My hair was long, and I could see all of my dental fillings on the screen of my laptop. I looked like I was in my twenties, much too young to have a grown son. I wore a pink printed halter top. I had to adjust the camera. Our son had short blonde hair and a neat beard. He was a Marine and was talking about how much they had helped him with funding. I was not so sure about this, but kept my mouth shut.
