Dream 20021123, 6:15 AM:
I’m walking along outside, and I see a bunch of people gathered outside a building. As I get closer, I see that there are a bunch of really old women sitting behind glass display cases; they appear to be minding them like for a sale, but they are really paying most of their attention to talking with one another, and with people who come up to see them. They seem to be dispensing advice.
I wander up and look at the stuff in the cases. One set of items looks like some sort of decorative cast bronze or iron work – I can’t tell what it’s made of. They have holes in the center and little stumps above the holes; after I look at them for a while, I figure out that they are peepholes for doors, and that the little holes would be covered by littel round pieces of metal (which are beside the others in the case) which would swing from the little stumps on a pivot. One of the grannies asks someone a question about a book; she listens to the answer, then gives a suggestion. I don’t remember the details.
Then, a whole group of people files into a big barn-like building; it reminds me of a large hay barn, or the Renner School House at OCP. It has drafty walls – I can see light between some of the upright siding boards – and windows around the room. Everyone is in desks around the perimeter of the room, facing the center. They start singing an old-fashioned hymn, and I sing along on a harmonic line, enjoying the sound of everyone singing together. Each person has a book that they are singing from; these are large and paper-backed, like the Christmas Carol books. I don’t remember what song it is, but when it was going on I felt like I knew the words and notes. Then, the song switches verses, and it’s complicated for me to follow the words; it’s something like a DC al Segno, with the second verse words written underneath part of the first verse. I look at my music, obviously confused, and someone sitting at the desk beside mine leans over and points out where we are, following the line of words with a fingertip. The sound and the setup reminds me of Sacred Harp singing, although the music seems to be written with traditional notes.
Then, I’m walking down a country road with Chris. I am explaining that it was a very unusual church service. I’m used to a service with a set structure: first the Introit, then the Benediction, then the Benefaction. He doesn’t seem to understand why I think this one is weird, and I explain with an analogy, saying that it’s like going to a restaurant and ordering dinner, and then they bring out dessert first, then the side dishes with no main course. He and I laugh about it as we walk along.
Then, I go into the side door of the big church/barn, and everyone is starting to file out at the end of the service. They invite me to come again, and seem very friendly and warm. Again the old women seem to be a particularly powerful force in this community – as everyone is getting ready to leave, they are checking on people and making sure that things are going smoothly.
**addendum – not sure if this was prior to the above, or after.**
I’m at a pizza parlor, below street level, like in a basement. I’ve gone into a back entrance. We called ahead and ordered something, and they’ve somehow gotten it confused. It’s a small pizza with jalapenos, although the jalapenos look like circular slices of avacado. We get there, and there are two restaurants running out of the same place, and somehow we’ve ordered the pizza from *both* places. The guy who is there is only running the one place, but they share a long counter. He puts his hand on the counter, and shows that one half is actually his restaurant, the other half belongs to the other restaurant. I go ahead and pay for both pizzas, and try to figure out how much it will be for both of them and tip. They’re not big – they’re each about the size of a regular dinner plate. I end up giving him $20 – two tens, and Chris is saying it’s too much. I’m trying to add up how much the two pizzas were with tip, and there is something else, like a dessert or a drink, and I tell Chris it should probably even be more than $20. Chris is doing the math in his head. The guy seems satisfied – he is trying to help us figure it out, although he seems happy with the amount, he doesn’t seem to know how we got to it. We’re all confused, and laughing. The pizzas are in white boxes with no print on them. We take the pizzas and start to go.