Category: Dreams

A Dream of Dad & Others

Last night’s dream featured three dead people: my friend, Randy; Dad; and my mother-in-law, Belle. It also featured a high school English teacher, and my father’s second wife. He was married three times, although he also loved with another woman for about ten years.

I was young. At the dream’s beginning, I’m up above, in a house, with others. Down below is a large green lawn with some green maples or oaks. Dad, stumbling drunk and very loud, was down there with his second wife by the trees. She was pregnant. Dad had two long rifles.

A man and woman were walking backwards across the grass, away from Dad. The man wore a straw hat. He also had two rifles.

Although I could hear them yelling, I couldn’t make out what they were saying. But they were having some kind of argument, and it was escalating. From what I saw, the man seemed to threatening to shoot Dad.

Turning, I found two weapons beside me. Picking up a sawed-off shotgun, I pointed it down at the man and called out.

He acknowledged something about, “Oh, now you have a shotgun in the fight.”

Another man and woman seemed to be approaching from the other side of the lawn to join that man and woman.

I realized the shotgun would be ineffective because of the range so I picked up the long rifle and aimed it at the man.

He moved back forward toward Dad and raised his rifle. Then he backed away again, turned and began walking away.

At that point, Dad threw his rifles into the air, hurling them away from the house.

The man left and Dad and his wife came in.

Dad could barely walk because he was so drunk. He went into a room where he said with a sloppy grin, “I’m going to lay down.” Then he passed out on his back on the floor.

Meanwhile, I had homework to do. I shifted to being in a classroom with my high school English teacher. She was explaining to us, a small class of students, what she wanted in our assignment.

The assignment excited me. I went home and worked on it on my computer. Then the file crashed, which upset me. I had two other assignments due but now didn’t have enough time to complete it all. Thinking about what to do, I concluded that I needed to tell the teacher that I couldn’t get it in on time and go from there.

I then went out to join the others. We were in a very large, well-lit house, brick, with many windows. All of us went to one small room. My mother-in-law (Belle) was in there. Something she said or that we saw satisfied us. We concluded, “That’s taken care of.”

Moving back into a hall, I said, “Now we need to figure out where we all sleep.”

Randy, my dead friend, began walking down the hall, talking with me. We were looking into the bedrooms. They were small, with a small bed, and no doors. I saw one and thought, I’ll sleep there, though I said nothing.

Randy led me into another small bedroom. “I can put someone in here,” he said. I noticed that there was hall attached. Saying, “What’s in there,” I went into the hall, which turned out to be a huge, well-lit bedroom. As I walked in, astounded, I saw an enormous room, with a huge king-sized bed, and two other, smaller beds.

I said, “People can sleep in here,” then I realized, oh, this is Belle’s room. If we put people in here, where will Belle sleep?

Dream end

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Sunday’s Theme Music — Catch

Ashland, southern Oregon. Sunday, August 9, 2026.

Got chilly last night — low 60s — which felt awesome. Even now, it’s in the upper 60s and a cool breeze is swimming past. Sky is postcard blue; no smoke or clouds. Expected to be in the mid 90s as our highs.

Mom and sis, Gina, remain at war. I’m surprised it lasted this long. Gina usually tries for another pact. Perhaps, after all attempts have failed, she’s really given up on Mom. Mom, on her side, blames Gina; sees no fault on her end. Mom did ask when her house was closing, which won’t be until after August 14.

It was a night of deep sleep and wild dreams. We have some socializing happening today, so I’m not going to dwell on the news.

Today’s music is “Catch Us If You Can”. This is a Dave Clark 5 song that came out when I was 9, in 1965. I know it because my sister, two years older, was getting into music. She had a DC5 album, along with albums by Freddie and the Dreamers, and Herman’s Hermits. She played them a lot.

Why is the song in my morning mental music stream? I don’t know. The Neurons probably conjured some secret connections with my dreams, thinking, writing, memories, but they’re as revealing as the Sphinx on a hot day.

I hope that you have a satisfying and enjoyable day, and that maybe it has some socializing in it.

Off we go. Cheers

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The Protector Dream

Kind of a weird dream last night. I was youngish middle-aged but didn’t resemble me. That I could see myself was sort of fascinating, as the dream was being conducted from a close third person POV.

We were in a very dark place encircled with wet, gray rock, like an ancient castle. We were going down a slick, muddy path along the wall as night deepened. A moon was rising. Others were there, but I was defending them. First, I was using a sword. The sword kept changing, something I only noticed in hindsight. It was first a rapier, then a broadsword, finally a claymore.

The ones I was protecting were getting ready to leave. I was going to cover them so they could. My sword was now an automatic pistol.

I was trying to get agreement with them about when they’d go; what signal would they give? Another defender joined me. He and I joked about having three basic plans to defend them: B, N, E. Each letter meant a specific plan, but we weren’t sure what it meant. He and I ended up finding this hilariously funny. But as we joked, we kept looking out, watching for the enemy.

The people we were protecting were less amused from the way they were muttering and their sour expressions. My co-protector said, “Don’t worry. Give the word, and we’ll protect you.”

Dream end.

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There I Was Dream –

In the military again. Young. Off again on some special assignment.

First, I was trying to get there. Mom – the young woman of memory – gave a huge smile and a wave and told me, good luck, I’ll see you later. I was surprised and pleased that she was there to see me off.

A group of us were traveling together. We were each taking our own gear with us. Some of them had lost their gear.

I realized, they put it down in a marshy, muddy area, and their stuff sank. As they moaned and groaned, I told them, I know exactly where it sank, and showed them where to dig. They did and quickly recovered it.

We arrived where we were supposed to be. Outdoors, it was a strange setup: a large semi-circle of people seated at tables. Men and women. Seemed to be civilians, and older. It had been heavily raining and brooding clouds kept it dark.

Parallel and behind the semi-circle of people were our lockers where we were to stow our gear. We were being called out in units. I’d been fully prepared but now – damn it, I couldn’t find some of my gear. I also discovered, and then recalled, oh, yes, “I need to order a new phone.”

A little panicked, I was scrambling to get the right gear. Like, how the hell did that happen?

I noticed many others were in the same mode, alleviating some of my worries. I then managed to find the needed gear except –

Underwear. Where the hell was my underwear?

I knew I packed it but I couldn’t find it, and everything was getting muddy.

Dream end

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Another Military Dream – Almost

I wasn’t in the military. Young again, I discovered that I’d volunteered to do something. Many others had volunteered. We were waiting for the results.

While doing that, we went into a chowhall. The place seemed chaotically organized. I decided to fix a burrito. I managed to get a plate, tortilla, beans, rice, but then could find nothing else. I was watching people select other foods but none of those foods were familiar. I eventually found some corn chips. Crunching them up, I added them to my burrito and ate it. It was not very satisfying.

An announcement was then made. I, along with others, had been chosen for a special project. We were being told that it was a great honor and we would do a wonderful job. I have no idea what that was about, although I seemed to understand it in the dream.

We were told that we had new quarters we’d be sharing. Find someplace and stake a claim.

I knew no one else there; in fact, that seemed common: no one knew anyone else. So I’d be bunking with strangers.

I entered what was indicated as available quarters. What I encountered wasn’t what I expected. The walls were painted in bright white. Furnished, it was strangely arranged and organized. Wide, tall, the floor sloped like a meadow. Different rooms were indicated via arched halls. Whole thing reminded me of a hobbit’s place.

I encountered one of the others. A tall, white guy, bald, he was in Air Force dress blues. I gawked at his medals and ribbons; they were a collection unlike any I’d ever seen.

I told him so. Abashed, he replied, “Oh, yes, they rewarded me for being part of some special projects, but they weren’t really anything.” He then explained two of them but I don’t recall those details. One was a huge, blue and white ribbon with a large gold B on it.

Needing to use a restroom, I spotted one ‘down the living room slope’. The bathroom was a small, well lit cave with a rounded entry and door. The bathroom itself was gold and pink. Strings of bright white and gold lights were attached to the arched door frame.

I went in and sat on the commode, then tried to close the door. It would not stay close. We have to fix this, I thought.

A tall, muscular black woman in green shorts and a green top pushed the door in. I told her the room was in use. Never saying anything, she left.

The door remained open. Going out, she called out to the man in the dress uniform, “I can give you three four eight for seven. That should get you there.”

Leaving the room, I did up my clothes and asked in general, “What’s that mean?”

Dream end.  

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The Aircraft Learning Dream

I was traveling again, a younger person but adult. With many others, all strangers. Most of them were traveling in groups.

I was traveling light, with just a few things. It was cold, kind of dark, as we headed from one classroom to our next one: a jet aircraft.

The jet was spacious and well-lit, with many halls, classrooms, and lounging areas. People rushed around, hurrying to get to preferred spots. As the jet took off, I wandered around, looking for a place to sit. As I did, I would think, oh, no, I forgot something – book – which was green — phone, laptop. But then an insight would come: no, I didn’t bring it, or no, there it is, over there.

Almost all the other travelers were females. They seemed younger than me. Classes and their locations were announced. I tried to get there but found I was too late: the class was always full.

Meanwhile, people left things on their seats to save them, so I couldn’t use their seats while they were in class.

Becoming very dejected, I passed a man in the hall who asked, “Do you need a seat?”

“I do,” I replied.

“Come on,” he said with a gesture, turning away. “I can find something for you on the flight deck.”

We got up there. He explained to the crew up there what was going on. Another crew member said, “We have no problem with letting him sit up here but we just gave the seats away to others, right before you arrived.”

They all apologized and I headed away, looking to see, do I have my phone? My green book? Laptop? As I confirmed, yes, I had those things, they announced the flight was due to land soon.

Dream end.

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Another School Dream

Heading to school. Adult – roughly my current age. Driving through a dark, rainy day. It is pouring rain.

It begins with me in a car, driving. Traffic is heavy. I’m trying to get into the left-hand turn lane. A dark blue Miata is ahead, trying to get into my lane. Behind the Miata, a motorcycle is trying to also change lanes to my lane.

Patient and courteous, we work it out and go on. I turn left, then left again onto the school grounds.

Then I’m in a crowded small classroom. English lit is being taught. Other students present are famous and accomplished: movie, television, and rock stars, along with NFL players and coaches, and NASA scientists. I think, what am I doing here?

A man introduces himself as a NASA scientist. I once facilitated some NASA scientists in a team-building exercise. I struggle to remember their names. I can only tell him when and where it happened. He smiles, indulgent, but he’s not impressed.

An NFL player sitting not far from me recalls a ‘jet sweep’ play. He was blocking for the runner, and vividly remembers details. “Was the QB the runner?” I asked.

An NFL coach  joins the conversation. Using a marker, he draws up the play on a sheet of paper, describing it in detail. I’m astounded.

We break to different classes. As I walk away, I notice that my computer bag, which is black leather, feels awfully light and floppy. Damn; I left my laptop at home. I think, if I have my phone, I can still log in and do things – but no. I’ve forgotten my phone, too.

Grimacing, I think, how can I recover? Not seeing a way, I sit, hoping to be inconspicuous, realizing, if called upon, I’ll just need to explain that I screwed up and forgot my phone and laptop. I’m so mortified.

Another person sits beside me. I recognize him as someone famous. He asks, “Hey, are you alright? It looks like something is bothering you.”

I explain that I forgot my laptop and that it upset me.

The teacher, a small elderly woman, comes in and sits at a desk at the crowded class’s front. She begins talking.

Dream end.

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The Sisters Dream

I was with several of my sisters. We were all younger than now.

Don’t know where we exactly were. Outside. Mostly flat and sort of muddy to start.

I’d been off doing something and then returned, looking for them, as it was time to go. I found them by a large broken cement sewer pipe coming out of the base of a dirt hill. Multiple bottles and trash was there.

One of the sisters asked, “Michael, can you help us? We want to clean up these bottles but we don’t know how.”

They had two large plastic containers with a spout on top. Way too small to put the bottles in. So I tore the top of the plastic away. They thanked me and we loaded the bottles up, often breaking them. Some bottles were already broken. As they warned me to be careful, I picked up the bottles and put them in the plastic. Then I carried those away, depositing them somewhere safe.

I was ready to go, so I began walking. My sisters were several hundred yards away. I wanted time to myself. Deciding to avoid them, I began running. My sisters called my name: I ignored them, running faster.

I crossed the muddy plain and then ended up on a highway’s wide shoulder. Traffic was heavy to my right. Dusk was coming. Left was a lot of new constructions: houses and stores were being built, but was suspended for the night.

I thought, wow, that’s a lot of construction. The construction and changes threw me off. I hadn’t been in the area for a while. Confused about where I was going, I decided to go back to my sisters.

Turning around, I gawked with some amazement. I hadn’t realized how far and fast I’d run. Running back, my speed amazed me even more.

I reached the spot where I’d last seen my sisters. They weren’t visible. I called them; no answer.

Then I found them, along with their previous husbands, and more of my family. I looked for my wife but she wasn’t there. I saw my younger sister’s ex-husband, JJ, and said hello to him, adding, “Good to see you.”

The group told me we were going to Sharon and John’s. She’s my sister and that’s her husband. Then the group kind of wandered around, dawdling. Impatient, I went to Sharon and John’s house.

It was a small place. In the dining room was a large oval, polished wood table. Arrayed in front of it on one side were three rows of seven baby highchairs. They were different colors and ages. Each had a placard on it.

I was mystified. Like, what’s going on here? Is this where they expected us – adults – to sit? We wouldn’t fit in those chairs. No, they seemed to be set up for something. Classes for children?

Then the chairs rearranged themselves. Many disappeared. Matthew Perry was seated at one of the tables. Reprising his role as Chandler Bing from “Friends”, he did a few scenes. Except, he was the size of a baby.

John came in. I said, “How was that done,” gesturing to Perry/Bing in a highchair. John explained, “Oh, that’s Matthew Perry. He was in “Friends”.”

I answered, “I know all that, but that’s not him. That’s the size of a child. Is that a puppet? Animation?” It was completely lifelike.

We went back and forth, with John explaining the same thing in almost the same ways. I kept asking questions, trying to clarify it, but never got an answer. My sister came in, interrupting us to announce that there were sandwiches in the other room.

Dream end.

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The Water Bottle Dream

Once again, I found myself younger and off at some gathering. Not huge, about one hundred people, I guess. It was some kind of bonding/teamwork thing. Don’t know who was hosting it.

I was part of management. I knew everyone there, at least casually, and some were direct co-workers or friends. Nobody was part of my real-life world.

We’d just finished eating and socializing. Clean up was underway. The undertaking was moving to a new location. Teams were going to be set up and tasks assigned.

As I was familiar with what was happening, I urge everyone to go on while I cleaned up and supervised that aspect. Finishing up, I found a bottle of plastic water. Drinking from it, I headed down to join the rest.

Everyone was scattered in a sort of ornate, fancy hotel lobby. I wandered through, eyeing the groups, listening to the chatter, drinking water from the bottle.

A woman at a podium accosted me from a podium that was up on a platform. She was young and dressed formally in a skirt but with a buttoned up blouse and jacket. I took her to be a concierge or some sort of hostess. Not knowing what she was saying, I went closer to her.

She said, “Wouldn’t you be better off drinking that water somewhere else?”

I didn’t respond. I realized that she thought that I didn’t belong there.

Feeling feisty and amused, I asked, “What did you say?”

Smirking, she leaned forward and looked down at me. First she repeated what she said before. Then she elaborated, “Maybe you have a home you can go to to drink your water.”

Grinning, I drank water and replied, “I like it here. Why shouldn’t I drink it here.”

Lowering her volume, she explained, “You don’t seem to appear like you belong here.”

“Really? Where do I belong?”

Our conversation had captured my friends and co-workers’ attention. Some came over and asked, “Michael, what’s going on here?”

I smiled, almost laughing, as I saw the concierge realize that I was part of that group.

Dream end.

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The CIA Dream

I was working in marketing again, as I had for several years in real life. I was about the same age as well, early 40s, after retiring from the military.

Just returning from a long trade show, I went to my office and opened my cabinets to put things away. There I found that someone had been delivering food to me! Much of it were three by three inch cubes with Kanji on them. The wrappers were white, with either a red, green, or blue.

They totally mystified me. I questioned others, where did the food come from? Who brought them? No one could say.

I figured out through examination that the colors on the cubes represented fish, beef, or dairy. That amused me but needing my space, I began clearing them out.

Next I found bags of candy. Like WTF? Then cans of soup and containers of melted ice cream.

I couldn’t believe it. Why would someone put that in my cabinet?

A female co-worker came by and explained that the same thing had happened to her. It was part of some lunch program. We didn’t go in to get our food, so they delivered them to us. We weren’t there, so they put them away for us.

“But ice cream?” I protested. “That doesn’t make sense. Also, how much food do they think I need? There must be weeks worth.”

I was amused more than I was angry.

While I was cleaning, basically trying to do with this food, I kept getting summoned to meetings or interrupted by people coming by.

Two of the people who came by were CIA agents. Or so they said.

Male, dressed in suits, with ties. They wanted a favor.

Something was being installed. It was down on the ground floor, outside. They gave me a red and white placard. A white 5 was in the middle.

“Just put this on the cover of what they make. That’s all you need to do.”

Sure. Why not? Made no sense but did I care? Not really. I was too busy with other things to wonder about this strange venture.

Resuming my cleaning, I was almost done when two more men – white, in suits – stopped by. They identified themselves as part of the CIA. These two wore sunglasses.

I wondered, is this a joke?

One explained, “There is new construction being completed downstairs.”

The other held up a white thing. Basically resembled a white tent peg. “We want you to put this about a foot behind the construction, about a foot to the right. That’s all you need to do. We’ll do the rest.”

I repeated all that because it made no sense.

Then I asked, why are you asking me to do this?

“We’ve seen your records,” the first said, as if that explained everything.

I figured he meant my military records, and all those security clearances, and just accepted it.

Later, I did what the two pairs of agents asked. Privately, kind of secretly, ensuring no one was around to witness it.

Then I laughed as I walked away.

Dream end.

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