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boccaderlupoI dreamed we were in a field located across from the graveyard near Route 3 and the diner. There's no field there in the waking world, but in the dream it was growing brown and yellow, despite the verdant lots around it. We had purchased and cleared this patch to build a large house for our family. An old Indian woman (from India) who looked suspiciously like my Nonna was there, scouring the field while the rest of us lounged. She was digging up dozens and dozens of pink, mole-like rats that had burrowed under the soil, with the intent of making a large rat stew for us all; she had tied the wriggling animals together by their tails and looped them in what seemed to be a small loom, dragging them across the field. I stood up and went to her, and, thanking her, kissed her lightly on the cheek. She beamed, and in her smile I thought I saw a glimpse of the person she was supposed to be.
Just then, down the hill at the other side of the graveyard, there was an explosion at a office on an industrial lot. People came pouring out of the building, which was a grey, faux Mansard roof structure. Flames shot out through the two front windows, and I ran down there with the intention of helping somehow.
*
I dreamed I was on the proprerty of the current president of the United States. It was a rather modest two-story home with a large backyard, covered in snow. I was waiting in the yard between a gazebo and a frozen-over pond. A chunk of the ice was missing. The president hobbled forth from the back porch, which was all made of glass with golden (or faux-golden) framing. He wore a kind of white kimono, and, descending the steps, plunged directly into the icy water of the pond. A man, presumably his son, came running out of the house with a towel, and pulled the old man, grinning, out of the water, bundling him and taking him back inside.
*
I dreamed I was at a sort of flea market with my son, under a large tent, near a river. I was showing one of the vendors, a portly fellow with a Mexico baseball cap, what my son had given me: some type of box that served as a grinding tool, with two wheels inside surmounted by two small triangles.
"Normally, in this setup," I explained to the man, "the wheels are made of diamond, but in this case, they are formed of ancient clay that has been baked for centuries in the sun, as with the pyramids." I then proceeded to put some pebbles into the device, and the wheels ground against the triangles, rending them.
I don't know if that's how pyramid bricks are made in the waking world, but in this dream, at least, I believed it.
Just then, down the hill at the other side of the graveyard, there was an explosion at a office on an industrial lot. People came pouring out of the building, which was a grey, faux Mansard roof structure. Flames shot out through the two front windows, and I ran down there with the intention of helping somehow.
*
I dreamed I was on the proprerty of the current president of the United States. It was a rather modest two-story home with a large backyard, covered in snow. I was waiting in the yard between a gazebo and a frozen-over pond. A chunk of the ice was missing. The president hobbled forth from the back porch, which was all made of glass with golden (or faux-golden) framing. He wore a kind of white kimono, and, descending the steps, plunged directly into the icy water of the pond. A man, presumably his son, came running out of the house with a towel, and pulled the old man, grinning, out of the water, bundling him and taking him back inside.
*
I dreamed I was at a sort of flea market with my son, under a large tent, near a river. I was showing one of the vendors, a portly fellow with a Mexico baseball cap, what my son had given me: some type of box that served as a grinding tool, with two wheels inside surmounted by two small triangles.
"Normally, in this setup," I explained to the man, "the wheels are made of diamond, but in this case, they are formed of ancient clay that has been baked for centuries in the sun, as with the pyramids." I then proceeded to put some pebbles into the device, and the wheels ground against the triangles, rending them.
I don't know if that's how pyramid bricks are made in the waking world, but in this dream, at least, I believed it.
