Dream 20020810, 6 AM:
The SCA / SCA / TSA / OCC Dinner
I’m at a huge feast in a large, dark hall; it seems like it’s a combined effort between the Society for Creative Anachronism, the Sammons Center, the TX. Soapmakers, and the Open Circle Center. I am somehow involved in making the event run, but it doesn’t seem to be my party. Everyone starts sitting down, and getting ready to eat, but the food isn’t all ready. I keep starting to pick up trays of appetizers from the shelf at the kitchen window to take them to the tables, but just as I arrive, someone appears and picks up each tray. There are vegetables and radishes and the like on the appetizer trays. I ask someone in the kitchen, “Do I have more enchiladas coming?” the person nods back, and I answer, “Good.” Someone spills part of a tray of enchilada stuff on the counter, and I wipe it up – it seems to just be taco meat. I wipe it up with a towel, then toss the towel behind the counter to get rid of it. It seems like some of the diners are in Colonial garb, with tri-corn hats and knickers. I remember something about a black pony chewing on the furniture, and I had to get him a chew bone to keep him from doing that.
Once dinner is over, I am working on cleaning up. This is some sort of rental hall, and in order to get the deposit back, we have to clean thoroughly. KeltikDawn predicts that I’ll have trouble with a woman named Claire Burke Original. I think it refers to Laura from TSA. I see an image of a pale-blond woman with a red brooch. I am talking to KeltikDawn outside the building now, and there is a little garden of statuary. It seems almost Masonic. There is a carved stone plaque with a masculine and feminine man carved on it, and several things that remind me of Egyptian steles, little needles of stone with markings on them.
Back inside, Joanna is giving a lighting report to a man in a suit. The hall was full for the feast. They are looking over the details of the cleanup, and they are VERY picky. One is looking at a mark behind one of the seats – the seats now seem like theater seats, in rows, and the mark looks like a piece of black electrical tape, but I think it’s actually a burn or scorch mark. On a table at the side of the room, I find two boxes, each with a bottle of fragrance oil. One is for Laura, and the other is for someone else, I don’t recall the name, but it is typed on the bottle label. The fragrance names were labeled also.