I think the setting is a small B and B. A man is shot in the head and comes back to life. I am in another culture. I use these small bottles and one regular bottle for drinking. (water?) This disturbs the people but they are OK with it. They just want to know what’s going on.
I am now the son of the guy that was shot. We, with other family members go together for a family get together. I am a bit nervous.
Daynotes: Monday of the week we are flying back to Minnesota. I am busy getting ready.
(Sunday, May 4, 2025)
The grandkids stayed overnight. This morning we hung out while Cullan made their breakfast. Wyn grabbed my wallet and pulled out an old card from the Edina realtor who helped us buy this house. I told Wyn he could keep the red card. He called it a “ticket.” Ten minutes later I got a text from the realtor congratulating us on our fifth anniversary at Rustic Lodge. That made me smile, and Smilie is the realtor’s last name.
I have been dreaming a lot but haven’t recorded all of the dreams. Yesterday I dream I am using a hand-sweep to brush dust and dirt off of the floor in a hallway in front of a door. Through the bottom of the door I see that there is more dirt inside, so I open it.
Behind the door is an old attic room with a high ceiling covering the rafters with white spackle and paint. A 3D ceiling. Antique furniture is here and there. Snowball (Cullan calls him Snowplow) runs in, meeting with another feline. A big, beefy ghost walks toward me from the back of the room. I am distracted from the ghost by a stream of shallow water flowing along the floor to the door. Chris is outside, in the hallway, and I show him the water. It evaporates immediately.
The ghost walks backwards and disappears into the wall. I feel I have met him before. I grab Snowball to take him outside, into the regular spaces in our house. His fur color has changed from pure white to a curly, baby-blue.
