Dream - The redwood pool in the back yard that became a pool in the Cadillac
On Saturday, December 18, 2010, around 12:15-2:45 PM, I dreamed there was a tall pool of water with sides of redwood fence material, vertical boards, at the southeast corner of the back yard, near and adjoining the alley. It was something I made. I was inside the house with my mother and some other family members, other people too, I think.
I went out to the pool, fully dressed, and got in it. I wore my glasses too I think, and had a bubble of plastic over my head to protect my hair and ears. The plastic stuck out like a cloud around my head. Other people came out from time to time to check on me. It was late afternoon and we were going to have supper soon. Eventually it came to be that the pool was built onto the back of the gold 1970 Cadillac.
I would bounce around in the water, sometimes going under then coming back up. It was too small to really swim in, maybe seven or eight feet square. Sometimes I looked out to one side or another. There were little kids in the alley sometimes, walking around a bit, playing there I guess. They tended to be to one side or the other of the pool. I don't think I talked to them much, maybe not at all.
Sometimes I would stay with my head above water for quite a while. Some people from the house started coming out again, and I started going under water some more. I realized that the plastic over my head was gone, then. I had taken it off and forgotten to put it back on. I was a bit concerned about it, but my hair seemed unaffected, the water just seemed to roll off when I came up, so I decided to let it go.
My mother came out one time, talking to me, and got in the water with me. She seemed much younger, in her fifties maybe. She then got out of the water, still talking, and made her way over the back seat of the Cadillac, and over the back of the front seat, going along by the windows, and got into the front seat and then out.
A friend of my sister's came over, a tall man with dark hair who seemed to be in his twenties. I didn't know him much, maybe not at all. He got in the water on the east side, and talked with me for a while. He talked gently and tried to be friendly, but I was uncomfortable with him being there, and tended to give short answers to his questions. One time he somehow misinterpreted something I said, to be a remark putting him down, and though he chided me about it a bit, he remained friendly. I think I tried to tell him that it wasn't what I meant, but he didn't accept it. He finally got out.
My sister came after a while with several of her friends, and got in the Cadillac and started it, over my continual objections, and backed it out, pulling the pool loose from the yard. Then she started slowly driving west down the alley, trying to reassure me, saying that I didn't understand.
Partway down the alley, a few houses down, heading west, my sister paused and stopped. She seemed to have gotten bogged down somehow, I think. We were near a chain link fence, to the right, perhaps a little over it, by or partly in a yard that was in disrepair, with uneven and raw dirt, dug through areas of grass. A thin man, perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties, was out in the back yard there, or came out there, and was standing there looking at us and talking to us. I don't think he was mad, though, mainly just interested. People were getting out of the car, Sharon's friends maybe. Quite a few people had been in there, a lot of them fairly young. I headed back toward home. I think I may have gone out there through the air, along by the trees, watching the car from above, instead of being in the car with her, and may have gone home the same way.
There were drinking glasses and other things, in heavy clear plastic bags, in the side yard on the west, over by the old, old bush near the side fence, in the grass, partly hidden there. The bags weren't large, just able to hold a few gallons. They were similar to the bags the hospital gives to patients to put belongings and things in, heavy plastic with a built-in cord for a drawstring. They were in a few places, in the same general area, some of them close by each other, even touching, but none of them very far from the others. They were sometimes in layers, going down some into the ground, into a hole there. I'm not sure there was originally a hole, but one seemed to have formed around them as more and more stuff got added, the lower layers sinking down into the earth. I had put them there when cleaning up the yard, different things at different times, some of it long ago, some of it more recent, perhaps even today.
I was trying to save what I had put there, at least some of it. The glasses were generally old glasses of some kind I think, perhaps some of them some kind of commemorative glasses, perhaps tourist type things, or they could have been something from fast food places, or perhaps some combination of that. It's possible that the tall bumpy green glass with the stem was in there too, the big green goblet, the one my mother got, as a free gift, when subscribing to a book series. She used to let me use it, and bring me drinks in it, such as orange or cranberry juice, and perhaps iced tea.
Other things were in the bags too, I think, that were just trash, papers and things, though some of that I might want to save too, if it turned out to be something that shouldn't be thrown away. It would all have to be gone through, sorted out, with the stuff I wanted to save, including a lot of the glasses, taken inside.
I spent some time digging through them, seeing what was there, before kind of loosely putting them back. This seemed like a really bad place to store them, but I didn't have a lot of time now to do anything with them. I hoped that no one would throw them away before I got it done. I hoped, too, that I would be able to get it done, that I wouldn't pass away and leave it unfinished. If I did, I hoped that someone would go through it, though it seemed a wistful feeling. I took some with me, some of the bags, and carried them around with me, as I wandered around in the yard, sometimes going all the way over to the other side and back, before finally setting them down somewhere, maybe back by the bush. I sometimes went back to the bags by the bush, looking down at them at times, sometimes going through them again a little, worrying about them. There was a lot more trash now, and papers and things, mixed in with them, even outside the bags, some on top, some down in the layers, stuff I hadn't realized was there before, and was surprised to see now.
My mother brought some plates of food out to the back yard, and gave me some, while talking to me about it and about what was going to happen. She was getting dinner ready, there was going to be a family get-together, and some other people were coming, too. The food needed to be tested, before she served it, and she wanted me to try it out. I think it was something she had had in the refrigerator for a while, or had set out too long, or some other thing. It's possible some may have come from suspicious cans, but I'm not sure now. It was odd food, maybe uneven pale green lumps, like some fancy marshmallow type salads. She needed to see if they were actually alright, that nothing was wrong with them, that they weren't poisoned or spoiled. I had some hope, I think, that they might be sent out for testing, but it looked like I was going to have to do it for now, even if they were sent out later.
I stood there, eating some of it, with some distaste and worry. I think she was going to feed some of it to the dogs, too, as well as the people at the dinner. I didn't want to have it served to other people without me at least trying it, to see if it was still good. I would rather it be me that was the Guinea pig instead of the others. I wasn't even really comfortable with serving it to the dogs.
Quite a bit of time passed, as I stood there with the plates of food, sometimes eating a little of it, sometimes talking to my mother, when she was there. She also held plates of food at times, but I think she was saving them for me, or just holding them until doing something else with them. We walked some into the side yard for a while, looking some in the direction of the front, as she talked about the food and the people coming. Sometimes we were in other parts of the yard, and sometimes I was alone. The sky seemed at least partially overcast. It had been afternoon, but as time passed it got closer to night.
We had been going to have something like a picnic, out in the back yard, the family and whatever friends were coming, but it seems to have been reconsidered, and we were actually going to eat inside now. I could see some people in the house already, members of the family, and some other people who had come. They were in the dining room, standing there, talking, not far from the table, which seemed to have been set up with food. My mother went back into the house, leaving the plates of strange food out. They were set near the fence on the west side, perhaps on the ground, though there may have been something there she put them on. There were quite a few of them. I looked at them for a while, from some distance away, considering.
I went out to the pool, fully dressed, and got in it. I wore my glasses too I think, and had a bubble of plastic over my head to protect my hair and ears. The plastic stuck out like a cloud around my head. Other people came out from time to time to check on me. It was late afternoon and we were going to have supper soon. Eventually it came to be that the pool was built onto the back of the gold 1970 Cadillac.
I would bounce around in the water, sometimes going under then coming back up. It was too small to really swim in, maybe seven or eight feet square. Sometimes I looked out to one side or another. There were little kids in the alley sometimes, walking around a bit, playing there I guess. They tended to be to one side or the other of the pool. I don't think I talked to them much, maybe not at all.
Sometimes I would stay with my head above water for quite a while. Some people from the house started coming out again, and I started going under water some more. I realized that the plastic over my head was gone, then. I had taken it off and forgotten to put it back on. I was a bit concerned about it, but my hair seemed unaffected, the water just seemed to roll off when I came up, so I decided to let it go.
My mother came out one time, talking to me, and got in the water with me. She seemed much younger, in her fifties maybe. She then got out of the water, still talking, and made her way over the back seat of the Cadillac, and over the back of the front seat, going along by the windows, and got into the front seat and then out.
A friend of my sister's came over, a tall man with dark hair who seemed to be in his twenties. I didn't know him much, maybe not at all. He got in the water on the east side, and talked with me for a while. He talked gently and tried to be friendly, but I was uncomfortable with him being there, and tended to give short answers to his questions. One time he somehow misinterpreted something I said, to be a remark putting him down, and though he chided me about it a bit, he remained friendly. I think I tried to tell him that it wasn't what I meant, but he didn't accept it. He finally got out.
My sister came after a while with several of her friends, and got in the Cadillac and started it, over my continual objections, and backed it out, pulling the pool loose from the yard. Then she started slowly driving west down the alley, trying to reassure me, saying that I didn't understand.
Partway down the alley, a few houses down, heading west, my sister paused and stopped. She seemed to have gotten bogged down somehow, I think. We were near a chain link fence, to the right, perhaps a little over it, by or partly in a yard that was in disrepair, with uneven and raw dirt, dug through areas of grass. A thin man, perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties, was out in the back yard there, or came out there, and was standing there looking at us and talking to us. I don't think he was mad, though, mainly just interested. People were getting out of the car, Sharon's friends maybe. Quite a few people had been in there, a lot of them fairly young. I headed back toward home. I think I may have gone out there through the air, along by the trees, watching the car from above, instead of being in the car with her, and may have gone home the same way.
There were drinking glasses and other things, in heavy clear plastic bags, in the side yard on the west, over by the old, old bush near the side fence, in the grass, partly hidden there. The bags weren't large, just able to hold a few gallons. They were similar to the bags the hospital gives to patients to put belongings and things in, heavy plastic with a built-in cord for a drawstring. They were in a few places, in the same general area, some of them close by each other, even touching, but none of them very far from the others. They were sometimes in layers, going down some into the ground, into a hole there. I'm not sure there was originally a hole, but one seemed to have formed around them as more and more stuff got added, the lower layers sinking down into the earth. I had put them there when cleaning up the yard, different things at different times, some of it long ago, some of it more recent, perhaps even today.
I was trying to save what I had put there, at least some of it. The glasses were generally old glasses of some kind I think, perhaps some of them some kind of commemorative glasses, perhaps tourist type things, or they could have been something from fast food places, or perhaps some combination of that. It's possible that the tall bumpy green glass with the stem was in there too, the big green goblet, the one my mother got, as a free gift, when subscribing to a book series. She used to let me use it, and bring me drinks in it, such as orange or cranberry juice, and perhaps iced tea.
Other things were in the bags too, I think, that were just trash, papers and things, though some of that I might want to save too, if it turned out to be something that shouldn't be thrown away. It would all have to be gone through, sorted out, with the stuff I wanted to save, including a lot of the glasses, taken inside.
I spent some time digging through them, seeing what was there, before kind of loosely putting them back. This seemed like a really bad place to store them, but I didn't have a lot of time now to do anything with them. I hoped that no one would throw them away before I got it done. I hoped, too, that I would be able to get it done, that I wouldn't pass away and leave it unfinished. If I did, I hoped that someone would go through it, though it seemed a wistful feeling. I took some with me, some of the bags, and carried them around with me, as I wandered around in the yard, sometimes going all the way over to the other side and back, before finally setting them down somewhere, maybe back by the bush. I sometimes went back to the bags by the bush, looking down at them at times, sometimes going through them again a little, worrying about them. There was a lot more trash now, and papers and things, mixed in with them, even outside the bags, some on top, some down in the layers, stuff I hadn't realized was there before, and was surprised to see now.
My mother brought some plates of food out to the back yard, and gave me some, while talking to me about it and about what was going to happen. She was getting dinner ready, there was going to be a family get-together, and some other people were coming, too. The food needed to be tested, before she served it, and she wanted me to try it out. I think it was something she had had in the refrigerator for a while, or had set out too long, or some other thing. It's possible some may have come from suspicious cans, but I'm not sure now. It was odd food, maybe uneven pale green lumps, like some fancy marshmallow type salads. She needed to see if they were actually alright, that nothing was wrong with them, that they weren't poisoned or spoiled. I had some hope, I think, that they might be sent out for testing, but it looked like I was going to have to do it for now, even if they were sent out later.
I stood there, eating some of it, with some distaste and worry. I think she was going to feed some of it to the dogs, too, as well as the people at the dinner. I didn't want to have it served to other people without me at least trying it, to see if it was still good. I would rather it be me that was the Guinea pig instead of the others. I wasn't even really comfortable with serving it to the dogs.
Quite a bit of time passed, as I stood there with the plates of food, sometimes eating a little of it, sometimes talking to my mother, when she was there. She also held plates of food at times, but I think she was saving them for me, or just holding them until doing something else with them. We walked some into the side yard for a while, looking some in the direction of the front, as she talked about the food and the people coming. Sometimes we were in other parts of the yard, and sometimes I was alone. The sky seemed at least partially overcast. It had been afternoon, but as time passed it got closer to night.
We had been going to have something like a picnic, out in the back yard, the family and whatever friends were coming, but it seems to have been reconsidered, and we were actually going to eat inside now. I could see some people in the house already, members of the family, and some other people who had come. They were in the dining room, standing there, talking, not far from the table, which seemed to have been set up with food. My mother went back into the house, leaving the plates of strange food out. They were set near the fence on the west side, perhaps on the ground, though there may have been something there she put them on. There were quite a few of them. I looked at them for a while, from some distance away, considering.
Labels: cadillac, dreams, flying, food, mother, sister, water
posted by Stephen at 7/01/2012 10:02:00 PM
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