What Dreams May Come

Ok, I know I am weird, there is no question about it, but beyond my natural quirkiness lies my truly bizarre dream world. Last night I had another of my famously weird dreams; I just have to share…if I can stop sneezing long enough…

From the point I start to remember, I am on some sort of a small tour. There are perhaps a van load of us, no more, and we arrive at a working farm. We are greeted by the owner and seven children the oldest of which are a teenaged boy and girl, the youngest a boy about six years old. They have come out to do some storytelling and interaction with us and even have small skits with costumes to engage our group. I however am baffled by the owner who was a classmate of mine in high school. He still looks as handsome as he did when he was 18 (admittedly he was not that cute but the pickins were slim at the time and I have seen him recently, the years have not been kind). Anyway I can’t take my eyes off him because I can’t believe he lives on a farm with 7 kids no less (trust me, this guy was not exactly what I would call farm material, Abercrombie model maybe, but farmer, notsomuch). As I stare at him, different members of my group are costumed and incorporated into the “family” to act out a scene and then return to their place. Suddenly, I am swept up by the teenage girl who throws some sort of crenoline nightgown over my head and says she waited to choose me because this costume wouldn’t make me look fat (I like her already). As I pull it down over my head and prepare to act out my part of the scene, everyone vanishes and my tour group is just looking at me as if I am an idiot. I guess in all the fuss I missed my instructions, so I go into the house to find the children. I can hear no one. I am afraid to go up stairs and look for them as no one else in my group has been inside the house and I don’t want to appear nosy or rude. After a few minutes, I decide to screw formality and snoop. I head up the elaborate staircase paved with painted spanish tiles like you see inside a fancy fishpond or swimming pool. I happen upon the master bedroom which has a loft above it for the bathroom. I hurry up the stairs and see the most incredible sunken tub made out o the same tiles that line the staircase. All of the sudden I have a flashback, a memory from high school. I have been here; this is his grandmother’s farm. He had brought our class here. It just seemed different because it is so unassuming on the outside. Feeling as if I have intruded on a memory I rush back down the stairs. The children and my friend are waiting for me, laughing that I could not find them. They were hiding cleverly in the nursery (there must be another staircase somewhere cause I didn’t pass anything remotly nursery like). Out of no where, I take my friend’s hand and offer to help him run the place. After a slight hesitation on his part (thinking rightly, of course, I am a city girl), he agrees. The children rejoice and I (somehow now wearing a perfectly fitted yet completly matronly Little House on the Prairie outfit) take them upstairs to get cleaned up for dinner. Apparently we all live happily ever after at the orphanage/weird farm tourist attraction.

I have no idea what I was smoking, but I really should figure it out because I could make some serious cash selling it. And not to totally ruin the randomness of the moment, but I was thinking about a particualr name and its many derivations last night before I went to sleep. Although I wasn’t thinking about this person at all, he is the only person I have ever actually known (well anyway) with that name, so I guess that is where he came from. As for the rest of the dream and its meaning your guess is as good a mine. Perhaps it was the pot roast talking.

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