(Wednesday, August 10, 2023)
I was not able to write this detailed dream yesterday as I had to head up to Cambridge to help my parents. My dad went to the ER. He is better today.
Dream: I have a large RV that is parked midway to the mountains. I get a phone call from a woman and a man that are white-collar and middle-aged. Their voices are highly intelligent and professional. Energetic. I know they are seeking information from me. I push back and ask question after question, and they become silent. Spies? Perhaps we agree to end the conversation, or I hang up the phone because “they are on mute.”
I walk downhill, along a road that reaches the edge of the ocean. I meet with Cullan and we enter a building together. He wants to tell me something he deems critically important, but he also wants to make sure that no one can hear us and secretly record the information. Spies?
We enter a private room with no windows. Two male IT workers are inside, so we move on to a second room. Two more male computer analysts are in this room, and I recognize one of them. We walk through a door to a third room, and this one is empty, safe, sealed. No one can hear us or grab any audio from our cell phones. It is sound-proof, like something I would expect to be used by the FBI. I don’t know what Cullan tells me when I awake from the dream. It is still a secret.
I move on to another part of the building to begin a task. A group of small children are ready to walk with me back to the RV, but there is a small, surprise duty that is added. In a dining area I grab a dozen or more glass salt and pepper shakers, unseal the metal tops, then empty the spices. The shakers are old, ornate. I screw the tops back on and put the clear shakers in a flappy, open storage box. The kiddos and I move on up the road to the RV.
When we reach the RV, I am struggling to keep the shakers stored in the nonfunctional box. I don’t want to lose them because I am required to return them to the building-on-the-beach. I leave them inside the RV. The dream has dissolved, but I think after inspecting the RV, the children keep walking with me. How odd that I don’t just drive the RV. I guess it is a “mobile home.”
Day notes:
A loud military jet just flew overhead.
Small children from St. John’s daycare walked past our house at lunchtime.
I got a dangerous spam text this morning on my phone. I ignored it and deleted it.
I walked to an estate sale this morning. It was full of very old antique glass dishes, mint toys and sewing machines.
Salt and pepper, female and male? White and black. Movers and shakers.
