Dream 20020909, 5:15 AM:
I am with Chris, and we are visiting at a place that I think is Aunt Ruth’s house, but in the city. It is three stories, and we are staying in a room on the second story. During the night, I have a dream that someone has brought down an electric cord from the third story and plugged it in to the wall. It seems frightening to me, like it was done by a ghost.
In the morning, after telling Chris about this ghostly happening, we go outside. I tell Chris about the other house that Aunt Ruth used to have on the farm, on thirty or forty acres. It had a staircase at the front and one at the back, and I start to explain that you could go up the front stairs, across the second floor, and down the back stairs. It seems funny the way it’s laid out. We walk along the street, and the house is close to downtown. There is a big flea-market / garage sale type thing going on, and we look at various stuff that is for sale. One booth is all pottery, and I think it’s really ugly – it’s done in mostly randomized splotches of dark glaze, and the pieces are very angular. It’s also very expensive – the artist is there with the pots, and they are priced higher than I think they ought to be for a flea market setting like this. They are mostly like sixty and eighty bucks.
We go back to the house, and I notice that the parking spaces are slanted really sharply; they work their way around a squared U-shaped drive, and some are at really odd angles. I move something in one of the parking spaces, like I’m saving it. We go inside, and we go up to the third floor. It’s not Aunt Ruth’s house any more, though; now it belongs to Grandmother and Granddad. The third floor is entirely taken up by the master bedroom. It starts out being just a neat big room, but then it gets stranger as we go along. The floor is in several levels, with the center where the bed is being highest, and the rest stepping down a couple of feet. Around the edges of the room, there is a long drop, like the floor below is open up to the ceiling. The furniture is low to the ground and mostly shades of blue; it is styled very unusually, it looks like the chairs and couches are designed to be lounged on rather than sat on.
Grandmother is changing light bulbs. She is walking around with a plastic shoebox full of bulbs, and I ask her if she needs help with them. She says I can help if I like, but she keeps on going. She gets up on a little chair and takes a funny-looking battery out of a fire alarm; it looks like a CopperTop, but is shaped with a thick end and a thick end, almost like a spark plug. She has a little machine in the shoebox of bulbs, and she drops the battery into the machine, and picks up a wire attached to the machine and touches the top of the battery. I think at first that she’s charging it, but then I realize that she’s testing it. As she touches the wire to it, it makes a light on the machine flash several times (Nova Dreamer Lights!). *end*