I was at the grocery store with my shopping cart, looking through a big cardboard box. It was full of things that I must have given to the store to sell as used. I didn’t mind the idea, but I found my recorder, my Clarke tin whistle, and one or two other things that I regretted parting with. I wrestled with my conscience over the need to make a clean break with things vs. my interest in these particular items. In the end, I couldn’t leave the recorder and tin whistle there. I worried about having enough room to bring them home in my cart and wondered how I would pay for them, since they did not have price tags.
I seemed to be at a poolside with a man and a couple of women. I don’t think I was a visible participant in the group, but was more of an invisible observer. The man proposed to one of the women, and I had a flash of insight that he had been engaged to the other woman at another time. I tried to say, somewhat jokingly, “You’ve proposed to every woman you know.”
He pulled out a pencil and composition book and started to work on his novel; he was a noted author, I began to think. One of the women, a minister’s daughter, had stripped and jumped into the pool, then she asked if there were any snakes in the water as she had forgotten to look. It was dusk and hard to see; there may have been. The man was standing in the water a few feet from the end of the pool, where I suddenly noticed an enormous black snake. It must have felt his movements in the pool because it came out a little and started to raise its great head toward him while the speculated as to why snakes would get into the water. I was unable to warn him.
In a Whose Line Is It Anyway? dream, I and another guy were supposed to listen to disco-type music and demonstrate, on our respective examples of Kansas football players, which activities on a cruise ship the music is used during. The first song was “Ladies Night,” and we both started doing a chest massage, but I immediately thought, “No, a massage would require soothing music,” so I changed my activity to exercise class. The next song (unknown) inspired us to put our guys on gurneys and roll them into oblivion off the football field-like set (the famous cruise activity of “taking to hospital”?), while the host said, “No, come back, there are two more!”
Then I found a rail car and pushed, and too late realized it was attached to another, maybe a caboose, and that because of momentum I couldn’t stop it, although I tried. I worried about them never stopping and about grooves in the floor. My dad later found them blocking the trailer hallway and wondered how they’d ended up there, when normally they were in the kitchen. I found there were others elsewhere, too.