Archive | July, 2019

One of those Victorian Mansion Dreams

31 Jul

I dreamed that I was reading a novel that took place in a series of apartments or a large old house that had been or was being turned into apartments.

But it shifted, so that I was one of two people who lived at/ owned a big Queen Anne Victorian house and a bunch of apartments or condos on the same block. In other words, it was no longer a novel, and I was a key player in the story.

The other person was a tall and slender guy. We were on the property, outdoors, behind the gorgeous, gingerbread-like house; it was white with blue gingerbread trim and many dormers and gables. He asked where I wanted to live: in one of the more modern condos, or in the front house. I said I wanted to live in the house.

We went inside, and the interior needed a lot of attention. At the very least, the place was covered in dust and cobwebs. I think there was some old furniture, though it wasn’t fully furnished. I said, “We need several mops and brooms.” Next I was carrying a mop and a broom across a mostly unfurnished room with large, arched windows. I was feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the amount of work needed, but I was anticipating some people coming and helping.

Dreams: Baby Lizard and a Mansion’s Elevator

20 Jul

I dreamed there were two fathers with a baby girl, at an airport, and the baby was perched on one of the father’s shoulders. Maybe she was a toddler.

People were coming and going.

Another man came along and too easily put a clear plastic bag over the baby’s head and took her away. I witnessed this and chased after him. I think another man was with him.

The baby managed to get away from them, but as she reached the tile floor, she changed into four tiny green things. One of them scurried off to a far corner, under chairs.

I picked up the less animated green things–all tiny, slimy curls about the size of inch worms.

The other one was quickly growing as I attempted to catch it. It was looking more and more like a lizard.

By the time the two fathers had her again, she was several inches long. They began discussing where they should put her, first believing a tub full of water would work, but one of them thought of their swimming pool, so that’s what they decided on.


I had a dream in which I was one of several people staying at a huge mansion. It was surrounded by trees, lovely grounds, and had many bay windows and such. I think it was brown and half-timbered.

In front of the house, some distance away, we (about six people) were on a grassy and tree-filled slope that I think overlooked a brook.

Suddenly a crowd of people ran toward us. I thought we’d be trampled. I looked up at the house and saw a few people, here and there, looking out windows.

The crowd surrounded us. I stood with my arms up in the air and yelled, “Don’t trample us!” I was surrounded and wanted to get back inside the house. I knew a huge crisis was happening and had the impression that many if not all these people would need shelter in the house.

Next I was right in front of the house, with lots of other people, and I hoped that I locked my bedroom door, because I didn’t want any of these people to rob me.

Next I was in a front hall, and people were rushing to the three elevator doors. I thought they looked flimsy. A couple people got in an elevator and closed the door, not waiting for me.

The next person to try that, passing me and getting into an elevator, was a dark-haired young woman. I caught up and got in the elevator with her–only to discover that it was tiny. In the center was a cardboard folding screen. I felt claustrophobic, but still felt do when I got on the other side of the screen, and she stayed on the first side. I told her it feels claustrophobic. I also said, “My room is on the second floor. I think. Or maybe it’s the third floor.” I couldn’t remember.

She pushed some buttons, I thought, and asked how this elevator worked, but I’d never used it previously. I looked at the wall and saw mysterious switches that looked decades old. We waited, and it didn’t feel like it was moving.

Next I was looking behind me, and there was a mezzanine with lots of people seated at tables. I was confused, because it was as though the back wall of the elevator had vanished. But it took a while to occur to either of us that we should get out of the elevator and take the stairs. I tried to remember what the stairs looked like and where they were, and I came up blank.

An Unexpected Visitor

19 Jul

I went upstairs… and a cute little rat appeared on the sewing room threshold. It sat there looking around with curiosity, while I stared and let my mouth hang open. I grabbed a cloth bag and started walking toward the rat, so it turned and ran to a far corner.

I called for Vita and Virginia, my two hunter cats, and they came upstairs and chased the mouse. To them, this was playtime; I merely wanted it back outdoors.


The rat sat in a corner, and Virginia slowly approached it. The silly little rat walked up to Virginia and touched noses with her. This cat has caught and  killed countless rats and mice! The rat acted like Virginia was its mommy. She seemed rather shocked and didn’t know what to do, so she backed off.

The cats chased the rat across the hallway, into my bedroom. Urgh. By the time I followed, Virginia and the rat were sitting inches away. I had my cloth bag ready. Anytime, I could grab it by the tail and put it in the bag: I’ve done this with numerous tiny mice. But… I didn’t want to touch it. It was small for a rat, but bigger than any mouse.

The rat saw me coming and ran toward the window; Virginia chased it. The most disturbing part was seeing the rat climbing the curtain. Virginia jumped onto the windowsill. She was fuller alert now. Through the sheen curtain, she tapped the rat, and it squeaked. I noticed it had a white underside and wiggly black whiskers, like a chinchilla. It was cute, but I still didn’t want to touch its tail. It kept climbing, while I tried to figure out a way to catch it without touching it.

I remembered seeing a pair of gloves in my dresser, so I rummaged through a drawer while Virginia and the rat were still in the window. I couldn’t find the gloves, so I grabbed a sock. Still carrying the cloth bag, I approached the rat and, through the sock, began to grab its tail, but it moved, I panicked, and the rat jumped to the floor.

Virginia thought this was fun. She jumped down and stared at the rat. I approached it with the bag again, and it ran across the room, Virginia right behind it.

Virginia cornered the rat on a bookcase. Finally, I used a dustpan to push the rat into the bag. It worked! I held the bag closed, took it downstairs, slipped on a pair of sandals, and went outside, where I released the rat in the bushes at the far front corner of the yard.



Even that was difficult, because the rat didn’t wish to leave the bag; I kept shaking the bag over the bushes, and the rat clung inside with its little hands. I lowered it closer to the ground while keeping my arms outstretched (I kept my distance in case it ran toward me when it got out) and gave it a few more shakes. Finally, the rat slipped out, head first, to the shrubbery.


Dreams Inspired by the 1910s

14 Jul

I dreamed that Benedict Cumberbatch and I lived in the same apartment building.

But back up…. Yesterday I started working on my burgundy 1912 tea gown, and last night I began watching Downton Abbey (because it’s the same era). Throughout the night, I dreamed about people in a manor house who wore clothing from that era. The women often wore dresses the same color as the one I’m making.

My last dream took place in a charming old brick apartment building that looked a lot like a couple of circa 1910 buildings on Hawthorne Boulevard. But I don’t think it was really Hawthorne Boulevard.

A lot of trash piled up on the front stoop. My white male roommate left a stack of white Styrofoam clamshells stacked on the second step by our door.

He took other trash: there was, to the left of the stoop (if you’re facing it) a sort of dumpster that may have been built into the ground, and my roommate took all the trash out of that, two large bags, and took it around to the back for trash pickup. So he took the majority of the trash out.

I was left with all the trash that was oddly on the front stoop. In addition to the clamshells, there were some random old pots and dishes, such as a Pyrex bowl.

I knew that Benedict Cumberbatch had recently moved into the same building. In my dream memory, I’d met him at a party and had… awkwardly babbled at him.

I left the front stoop, went to my apartment… I don’t remember what I did there, but the interior looked much like a St. Louis four-family flathouse.

I returned to the front stoop, where there were a couple young guys, one with medium brown hair and a beard who looked at me kind of funny because I’d not only left all this trash here (even though it wasn’t just me) but also because I’d accidentally left my keys. They were on a grey metal box attached to the wall to the right of the stoop. Something like a circuit breaker box. Now, after a glance at him, I noticed this and, alarmed and embarrassed, scooped up my keys.

The guys left, and I was still on the front stoop or steps, when a young guy I knew pulled up in a rusty old shell of a blue…van? Minibus? I think minibus would be a better word for it, since it had a row of several vacant windows and two rows of seats behind the driver. He stopped to chat with me while he remained in the driver’s seat. I kept expecting him to offer me a lift, and I was hoping he wouldn’t, because I had to stay and take out the trash. He didn’t offer (to my relief), and he drove away.

I was on the front stoop, beginning to collect the remaining trash and trying to figure out how in one trip, when Benedict Cumberbatch stepped out of the building. “Let me help you with that.”

I thanked him, and I picked up the stack of clamshells, and he took the other random items.

I kind of babbled at him again, but at least I didn’t have that fluttering heart panic that I’ve sometimes had around famous people. Now that I’m awake, I forget what I was talking about…while we walked around back.

Suddenly it was dusk. We were around back, where it seemed less urban and featured a lot of plant life. I saw a chain link fence nearby.

It was so dark by the time Benedict Cumberbatch dropped a Pyrex bowl, that he couldn’t see it in the dark. We both stopped to stare at the ground, and I peered down until I saw the clear glass and, with my hands full, kicked it slightly in his direction and said, “Here it is.”

He may have thanked me and somehow managed to scoop it back up, while I said, “Ha, I kind of acted like a hillbilly with my foot.”

We continued walking…and I woke up.


11 Jul

I dreamed I was staying at an old house with another woman, and we sat in a big room with white or off-white walls and a long, dark brown table. In this dream’s reality, I had attempted to comfort ghosts in my parents’ house the last time I was there (or in this house), by walking into rooms and calmly, quietly, and gently talking to them… but this had riled up the ghosts. Maybe they became like poltergeists. While the other woman and I sat talking, this came up in conversation, and I felt disappointed and guilty for having had that effect on the ghosts.

She was going to do a chore that involved filling a metal basin with water, but I offered to do it for her, and she agreed. So I took this metal basin…actually, it was sort of oval and had a white interior bottom and a handle, more like an old pot than a basin. I took it into a sparsely-furnished living room with a large fireplace. (This house seemed like it dated to the eighteenth century, like my dollhouse, and was probably in one of the original thirteen states).

I approached the fireplace, or at least, some sort of wide alcove like a fireplace. I hung the basin from a hook/string in front of the fireplace, as the other woman was going to do. There was a string or something like string. It was supposed to run parallel to the floor for a few feet, from the metal bucket. So I did all that, set it up as she would.

But as I backed away to return to the other room, the bucket followed me. It levitated. I backed away, and it floated through the air anywhere I went. I may have squawked, and I ran toward the room where we had been talking. I didn’t know what to do, and I figured that since she lived here and was presumably accustomed to this ghost, she would help.

The dream ended with me running around, chased by a ghost making that pot float around.

Socially Awkward Dreams

7 Jul

I dreamed that a coyote took money in order to lead people to a magic portal. Another man caught him doing this with a woman he knew and castigated the coyote; the woman hurried off to the portal while this was happening in a field not far from the portal.


I dreamed I was with a few people, I think all female and middle-aged, in an apartment, and I woke up to find that someone had cut my hair. She mentioned cheerfully that she thought it was time I had short hair. I didn’t comment, as I joined everyone at a long table. I was kind of shocked, and the only thing I could console myself with was the thought that it would grow back.

Eventually, I said, “My hair hasn’t been short like this since fourth grade.” I said it to the group on general. Someone replied, not sure what.


Maybe that was the same dream in which a couple people we’d never met were joining us, and one of them had waved red flags online. One woman was utterly unimpressed with Red Flags and assured me that I should block her on social media. So I agreed. But as I looked at a colorful and sparkly collage about Red Flags, and/or made by Red Flags, I realized that this was the person who was really enthusiastic about tarot cards and mysticism and who had therefore caught my interest, and I had expressed enthusiasm for these things. I started feeling anxious and indecisive, like maybe I shouldn’t push her away after all, considering our interests.

Next she arrived, very loud and chatty and gushy.

Ugh, sounds like how some friendships end up with me: we have common interests, but they turn out to be verbally and psychologically abusive.


I dreamed I was at some sort of outdoor festival and felt socially awkward with people I knew who weren’t paying attention to me.

It was dark, there were many picnic benches, and people were talking and eating… and some people were moving away from the picnic benches, because we would be seeing a film soon. I looked at the screen for the film and, after glancing toward where the people I’d been with were sitting, I figured I’d be able to see the screen perfectly where I was.

I was feeling awkward and out of place and noticed that nobody wanted to socialize with me. I assured myself that the film would start soon, and it wouldn’t matter.