Dream 20040306, 4:45 AM:
It seems like there was a break between these two segments, but I don’t remember if I woke up or not.
First, someone has died, but I don’t remember who. It has to do with Granddad, but it’s not him – he’s attending the funeral, though, and seems to be cheif mourner. I remember walking through the yard at the Grangerland house, out toward the garden. I also remember examining an alabaster couch with green velvet cushions; it’s sitting on little alabaster coasters on a marble floor at the Kingwood house, and I’m amazed that it’s not scratching the floor, but then I realize that the coasters under the feet have something like suede on the bottoms.
Then, we’re at the graveyard, which seems at the same time to be a place I’ve never been, and the yard of the Grangerland house. There are angels and devils, very cartoon-esque, vying for everyone’s souls. There is a gay preacher there to perform the funeral ceremony, and someone (Dad?) says something about the preacher putting us in jeopardy. I remark that it’s only a problem if we single out homosexuality and assign a quality of special sinfulness to it. It almost becomes like a television movie for a while; I remember watching a man in drag pull off his wig and hold it to his chest, saying, “Lord, help this poor gay preacher!” He reminds me of the Dom Delouise character from “Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.” The angels and devils are very melodromatic as well. I don’t remember the outcome.
I think I woke up in here somewhere, but didn’t get up.
I’m going to a woman’s yard sale; I’ve heard about it somewhere, and she’s supposed to have lots of neat stuff. I get there and outside on the ground beneath a canopy, amidst a bunch of piles of kids’ clothes, I see a long, multi-branched scythe on the ground, and with it an old-style rifle, I pick up the scythe, and someone tells me it’s a ‘potato fork’, and I see the price tag of $350, and put it quickly back down. I wonder if everything is going to be overpriced. I go on inside (the sale is both inside and outside) and there I start to see really interesting stuff, which I examine eagerly. First I see a red and white enamelware cake set; there’s a base pan, and then all these inserts that go into it with different shapes – one looks like a bundt, but another looks like a steamer basket. I know that it’s identical to one that Grandma had, but with all the pieces. I pick it up excitedly; its’ like four bucks. It has flour all over it, though, and flour gets on my mouth as I’m handling it; I wipe the tip of my tongue on my shirt sleeve. Then, I’m looking at some cake decorating stamps; they are brass pieces with elaborately carved shapes. One set in a box has things like dragon claws and other shapes; you can decorate your cake like a sculpture. They look like something that would be useful doing sugar-paste work. Beneath that set, is one of Greek gods; I remember seeing Poseidon and other classical style figures. They look like pieces of ormolu work. I remember thinking to myself that you could only do so many of the same cake, because it would be so distinctive. There are paper tags with dollar amounts sticking out of the boxes, although I picked up both boxes whole. The amounts are reasonable, like a dollar fifty and three bucks. I see Kay A. from work, and she says something about how long it took her to get in here; apparently, first thing in the morning, the woman’s son was standing guard at the door and only allowing a certain number of people to enter at a time.