capri0mni | Had a dream of my curly-headed baby....

Had a dream this morning (early afternoon?). It's been a while since this morning, so I don't remember all of it, but I've been replaying key scenes in my head:

At a long table in a boarding house-type place, having lunch. Every seat is filled. Those to my left and across from me are occupied by (literally) shadowy folks that can only be described as "faces in the crowd," and there is much rhubarb (as in background chatter, not what's being served for lunch). I am two seats away from the head of the table, which is presided over by a large, grandmotherly black woman -- very much a Goddess figure -- and she runs the boarding house. Seated at my right hand is a young man with curly black hair and light-colored eyes -- very much like the young men I saw walking the streets of Galway, Ireland, when my family went visiting there 10+ years ago... What is known as "black Irish." Well, he and I get into a friendly chat over lunch, literally breaking bread together (tearing pieces off a loaf of crusty bread, and passing them to each other).

Eventually, "the crowd" starts to disperse, and the lady of the house rises and announces that lunch is over. The young man at my side nods and says he has to go, but that he will see me home. As he rises, the lady of the house turns to him and says "Oh, by the way, happy birthday!" This revelation surprises and pleases me.

Young Man and I are at the shore of an island, and more "faces in the crowd" are there. It's sunny and breezy, and we're watching the waves roll in.... but as the waves get closer, I can see they are much bigger than they appear, and they roll under the land, raising it up. Only now, I realize that the "shoreline" is actually the deck of a ferryboat, and we are standing at the rail. The fairyboat is not moving forward, but the waves keep coming. We stay dry, however; the waves only roll under the boat... the sensation is very much like riding in a car on a very hilly road. He asks if I'm all right (I think), and I say I'm fine (I am, too... never have gotten motion sickness, in dream state or waking world).

We come to a sort-of town like place (the locations in this dream keep shifting and morphing), like a row of college dormatories, with neatly manicured lawns in front of them.

(then there are scenes and actions I forget.)

We come to the place where I am supposed to be... kind of like a summer camp cabin, or college dormatory... not in the town, but in the planned sort of "forest clearing" one sees at well-planned camps for children. Only the women on the porch waiting for me are my age (early 40's) My wheelchair is on the porch, which is a good 4 feet off the ground. Only, not only is there no ramp, someone decided it would be a good idea to remove the steps, too, as they "were in the way." Several people try to jury-rig some steps for us, out of discarded plastic containers, but that doesn't work very well. Meanwhile, Young Man has been supporting me in a standing position with his forearms in my armpits; I'm starting to get uncomfortable, and I can feel him getting tired. Eventually, after a bit of exploring, we find a long, slightly curving staircase with a handrail I can grab onto, and the women of the cabin/retreat say they can help me up the rest of the way. So Young Man takes his leave of me, and gives me a light, peck-kiss on the lips, such as a father or brother might give, but it is clearly meant as the kiss of a lover. (le sigh)

In a meeting with the other women in this "retreat." Many are dressed in long, flowing, white linen or cotton, and there is similiar drapery over the daybeds and chairs on which they are lounging. Now that I'm there, one of them announces that it's time to return to the discussion -- which is about a book, or a philosopher or somesuch thing. I get bored with this so I wander off, noticing stand displaying children's books. Going around a corner, I disover a room that used to be the children's section of a library. The children's section had been moved, but many of the books had been left behind.

Going through a door off this room, I come to a place that is a sort of combination library and discount store -- mixed in with the shelves of books are shelves of clothing and household items, all for sale (except the books, which are for borrowing). Unlike most discount stores, however, the lighting is not very bright, and even though there are no trees and we are clearly indoors, with vinyl flooring, and the aisles are all at right angles, there's a mood of being in a shadowy forest. There are customers in this "store," and there seems to be some kind of chase, going on... but whether it's a serious attempt to hunt down/run from something evil, or just a game like Hide-and-go-Seek, or laser tag, I'm not sure. And people seem to be getting lost (think "Chase scene in the TARDIS" in old-school Doctor Who for mood). I leave them to it, and wander off again.

(This scene is the last before I wake up, and it's also the one that seems the most garbled in my mind, so bear with me -- or not). I turn another corner, and come into what is really a "proper" mall -- with escalators, and bright lights, and many different storefronts opening onto a wide corridor, etc. I'm not really "in" the scene, any more -- not like I was in the earlier ones. I seem to be from a vantage point of about 5-6 feet off the floor -- I'm just watching it unfold around me (this could be why I don't remember it as clearly). There's a man (not my Young Man) riding up the escalator with a male companion -- a valet or servant or somesuch. As they near the top, the man tells his companion like he feels he is going to fall over, and his companion says of course he won't -- he'll be fine. But just as they reach the top, he does -- doesn't collapse, or anything, just tips over backwards, rather gracefully... eventually, I notice he's knocked over everyone behind him on the escalator, too. This gets an "oopsie!" thought from me... (slight scene shift -- different part of the mall) ...There a banner up over one of the stores, promoting a book. There are no words in this book -- the entire story is told through black woodblock prints that are semi-abstract, on off-white/yellow pages, and I think the pages are accordian-folded, or a combination of accordian-folded and conventional pages. The book is authored by "my" young man, and I have a very vague memory of someone (Young Man's agent?) telling me (though I may have just known, in the way you do, in dreams), that Young man is looking for me. ... then the dream fades into various seque scenes, and I wake up before we actually meet up again.

Still, a nice dream... (le sigh).

Also, I realized, as I went to bed, that I am terrible at math. For some reason, I had the idea in my head that Post #550 was only 5 or 10 away from 600, instead of 50. So the six drabbles will be a ways away, I guess. So I have a new goal: Post# 600 on my third LJ anniversary -- November 6. I'll still do the drabbles, though. That'll give me time, maybe, to write 6 fresh ones.