The first two dreamlets were each very brief, but distinctly lucid. These were dreamed at some time in the early morning, but I don’t have the exact times.
First, I am at the Kingwood house, and something makes me realize that I’m dreaming. I don’t remember what it is. I decide that since I’m lucid, I ought to be out flying. I go outside, and I’m talking out loud to myself. I say, “What am I doing inside on such a beautiful day, when I could be FLYING!” As I say this, I leap into the air sideways, and begin to lightly fly along the street. There seems to be a heavy fog here, and the shadows of the trees cut sideways through it and make beautiful patterns.
Then, I wake. I decide that if I can avoid moving, I may be able to get directly back to dreamland.
I find myself sitting at a desk, in front of a computer. There is a woman here with long strawberry blond hair, and I know that she is Joanna, but I also recognize that she looks wrong. She leans over and does something to my computer and makes it start printing, and it begins to pull in a sheet of paper that was sitting in front of it. It seems like a dot matrix printer with fan-fold paper. I look at her again, and realize that it’s not really Joanna. I tell her that she’s not Joanna, and that I’m dreaming. I decide that what I want to do in this dream is to taste something to see how it tastes. I go into the kitchen (this seems very much like the Kingwood house) and think briefly to open the spice cabinet and try something from there, but I decide that there is something tasty in a different cabinet. I open an upper cabinet, about where the china is in real life, and it is full of bottles that look like cleaning chemicals or something. I pull out one little bottle, shaped like a flat flask, and look at it. It is green plastic, and it looks like its label is all rubbed off. I realize that this is because I’m dreaming and it’s hard to read things in dreams. I rub my fingers over the label, and it seems as if the lettering becomes clear where I’ve touched it, but just for a moment before it fades. I rub it quickly, and see that it says something about drink syrup. I pour a little dollop of it into a cup, and fill the cup with water at the sink. The stuff is dark emerald green and very thick, and it gets onto my fingers. I taste a sip of the watered down stuff in the cup, and it tastes distinctly, but not very strongly, of spearmint. [Chris made spearmint soap last night, with green colorant] *end*
I’m at the Kingwood house, sitting in the living room intently drawing in a bound book. I don’t remember what I’m drawing, but I’m using a pencil. I hear Deborah speaking to a group of people in the dining room, and I walk in there and sit at the chair beside the organ, still drawing. She is talking about dream journalling, and says something about how you’re not supposed to illustrate your journal, based on someone’s research. I say that I enjoy illustrating mine, and that the prohibition is supposed to be about collecting pictures for it out of magazines and the like.
As she talks, she refers to a display in the middle of the table. Watching it, I realize that the two things that are moving around it are huge spiders – each has a body about the size of a hen’s egg, but the legs are tiny and all hang together, sort of like the shape of a flea. They start out being a golden color, and she picks them up in her hands. As they develop, they seem to change color, becoming a type of golden argiope as I watch. I look them up in a guide, and it shows a magnified version of the foreclaws of the spider; I realize that the real ones are too small for me to be able to see this difference. I am trying to place which kind they are. They have an asymmetrical pattern on the underside of their bellies, and I manage to match that up. It is very colorful, with red X’s on a background of mostly yellow, outlined with black. The asymmetrical part is like a drawing on the underside, with a little white box. I match it exactly to the picture in the book, and it says something about Tragocephus, or some name like that. The picture in the book looks scary, like some kind of monster insect, and I wonder if the spiders will grow to look like that, or if that is a dramatization. They have lots of color on them, green and black and yellow and red and white. Deborah has one in her hand and takes it outside; she is holding it close, so that it can’t wiggle free. Its body is about the size of a mouse. I go and find a katydid on the dining room window, and feed it to the spider as Deborah holds it. The spider holds on with its front legs and searches over the katydid’s body with its jaws, as if searching for a place to bite.