A Rolling Kayak Gathers Momentum

Was out working in the back yard when I heard a commotion from on top of the hill. New neighbors had moved in, taken down the fence, and filled the drainage easement with two to three pound river stones (as they didn't want to water the grass that was there previously.) Unfortunately they had a couple of younger children who liked to roll the stones down my hill, smashing up the ivy and the celery and bean plants at the bottom of the retaining wall. This time one of the stones hopped the wall and grazed me in the calf. I was dodging, but just not fast enough to get missed. I shouted the Ouch, ouch! ow! song. They looked panicked a moment, and then ran off. I decided I needed to put all of the stones in a basket and make a trip around the block for a visit. As I was gathering up the stones I looked up to see an orange and white plastic kayak sliding down the hill towards me, but not in time to get out of the way. As I turned to run, the kayak bounced off the ivy swinging into my legs, knocking me down and leaving me with a huge cramp in my right calf. (Which was still there when I woke.)

The Apparition

Was running through a bunch of corridors full of beige and steel colored pipes. The apparition chasing us (myself and a group of high school aged kids) and I was falling behind. When I finally caught up to the group, they were trying to open the rusty bolt of a door whose little round window showed the outside. The apparition appeared on a large screen monitor, terrifying everyone, I stood between it and the kids, arguing that it was just an image, urging them to keep on trying to open the door by rotating the handle back and forth to loosen up the rust. They were making progress when the apparition leaned out of the monitor, splashed us with rusty water, then grabbed both my hands with its own. I turned my hands over and returned the grasp, but with all my force. "So much for not being real..." it started to taunt us.

"You're not," I insisted and pulled myself up by its rough dry hands towards the monitor and into wakefulness.

Full on thundering heart and drenched in sweat, but happy to know I was right.

Stormy Moving Day

I dreamed I was moving into a new home on a low hillside overlooking the ocean. The unpacking was a little chaotic as J and her family were there helping, as well as L and a couple of other folks including my brother and his wife. We were unpacking one of my parent's dressers when we discovered that it didn't sit very even. I opened up the top and we discovered an entire sewing machine cabinet, disassembled, stored under the top shelf. It was something my brother had inherited, but we'd not found it at the time.

Of course we took a break to assemble it and my brother decided that he wanted it. We had to disassemble it so we could ship it to Virginia. J was in a little bit of a mood as the kids were wildly running around discovering all the neat features of the house. Her son, however, thought it was because this was our fourth anniversary. I tried to point out to him that we hadn't been dating in almost two years, so that seemed unlikely (and it was the Sunday, not Friday before Thanksgiving, so there were still a few days left even if that were the problem.) All the while we were working, the light kept growing dimmer until I looked out over the bay and saw huge cloud wall, churning gray and green and full of lightning. A waterspout headed right for our little beach. I yelled at the people outside to hurry and get into the house. When they asked why I pointed out to the waterspout, and that got them moving. Several strangers also ran towards the house, then looked confused about what to do then, as they were sort of trapped against our sea wall. My brother and I helped them up over the wall and shooed them into the house. I was being pelted with water and small fishes as I ran into the house and pulled the french doors shut behind me.

"There's a box of towels in the back bathroom, bring them all."

The group of people from the beach were all trying not to drip on the carpet, so were all huddled in the six by nine tile space right in front of the doors. This room had indoor/outdoor carpet, though, and was meant to be more of an enclosed patio than a regular room, so I told them to spread out, "the carpet washes out." I remembered that it had plenty of sand in it when I bought the place, so wasn't worried about it.

The water spout lifted and vanished as it made its way overhead. The house was well built (very dome like) and it didn't even shudder, though lightning was flashing and you could hear the thunder so loud some of the people were holding their hands over their ears. The kids were helping me pick up the little wriggling fish and put them in a small bucket. I opened the door and ran out to the edge of the sea wall, a wave reached up to just a few inches below the wall, so I was able to scoop up a half bucket, it would be enough to save at least some of the fish. At least there weren't any more falling from the sky, just normal rain at that point. J's grandkids joined the beach kids in catching the fish and putting them in the bucket.

Lunar Rebellion, Cruise Ship Encounter.

Multiple long dreams the last couple of nights, including a dream in two parts! It's been awhile since I had one of those.

Two nights ago, I found myself embroiled in a Rebellion in a Lunar Colony. The colonial citizens were fed up with the lack of work, and thus the absurdly low pay they were getting. They wanted to riot to convince the government to provide more work for them. I was in a position that allowed me a significant amount of mobility throughout the colony, driving one of the transport trains, as well as maintaining the software system it ran on. A lot of us who were keeping things running wore two hats like that. It was, therefore, obvious to me that I was essentially taking up two jobs, even though my life and my cargo pretty much relied on the software systems to make our schedule and avoid traffic jams and the like. I wanted to know what the AI was doing that was in control of my safety. On my way to deliver food to an outlying mining community, all radio communications were suddenly cut off. I found myself using the lunar version of Facebook to make an ad-hoc connection back to my dispatchers, once they figured out that was how they could still talk to us. I got the warning that there were rioters waiting for my food train just as I was locking into the station's air locks. Too late to lock myself into the control cabin, or eject, I found myself captured. They almost killed me, but someone a little bit saner prevailed upon them to spare me, so they wouldn't have to wreck the train to get into the locked refrigerator cars. I knew that once I'd let them into the cars, I wouldn't have much leverage. I started trying to find out what their issues were, and how they thought wrecking their connection to the Central Authority was going to make things any better. They weren't entirely self sufficient now, and blocking their reception terminal with a wrecked train wasn't going to encourage the Central Authority to send any more. This train needed to clear the station and go back if there was ever to be another one.

I convinced the rabble-rousers that they wouldn't get anywhere in my transport without me to unlock the software. Mostly by making it clear that I wasn't going to tell them how to get to the central core of the colonial administration dome, and I wouldn't be there to authenticate the transport at the various junctions on the grid to get back. If they killed me, they would have to figure out how to get there by walking. Not really possible during the long Lunar night.

On the long trip I tried to explain to them the actual "how things work" of air, water and food production and distribution. Trying to convince them that if they caused so much trouble that it wasn't financially worth it to maintain their habitats, mines and factories, the central authority could simply cut them off, forcing everyone to relocate, or die. Their standard of living would be far worse than it was now if they had to live on the air, water and food they produced locally. If they could even make it work with the population they had. By the time I'd managed to make it back to my dispatch station, the group had calmed down, more thoughtful and less angry leadership had appeared among the crowd, and we were given clearance to bring a group to the Central Authority. As we made our way across the surface, I pointed out a collapsing dome in the distance. Emergency evacuation pods were shooting out across the surface of the moon, and transports like my own were hurtling off the tracks, deploying their emergency service vehicles. The central system caused us to stop, and I began to deploy my half dozen emergency service vehicles, each programmed to pick up two of the emergency pods before returning to the transport. Our first rescuers told a rather harrowing tale of how some nearby minors had rioted, and then someone had blown out their central dome. Hundreds of people had been gathered in the central dome to hear a connected mining colony protest their working conditions and the rationing that was going on. Rioters from that colony had shown up. Only a few dozen had made it to evacuation pods. The mood was much more somber on the way to the Central Authority. I was surprised we'd been granted permission to travel that far. I was not surprised when there was about a hundred people with tasers waiting for us when we arrived. They were very surprised when the injured evacuees were carried off first by my passengers, and that none of my group were armed or unruly. I explained that the envoys needed to talk to the CA about preventing the same sort of disaster we'd just helped rescue people from.

Later, I dreamed that I was on a cruise ship, my four person room had been paid for, but I was the only one who could make the trip. I bumped into a very unhappy woman and her two children at some sort of lecture event. She had just been dismissed from her position on the cruise, and they were threatening to put her off at the next port, where she would have to try to find a way home for herself and her two girls. I shared my box lunch veggies and dessert with the kids, and made napkin rabbits and other puppets for them. She left to go get her luggage packed up. After the kids had left, I noticed that they had left their shoes behind. An elderly (more than me) man indicated that she was quite fetching, and he might just have the thing to cheer her up. He wanted the kids shoes so he could introduce himself to her. I thought he was way creepier than I am, so decided that I would return the shoes instead.

This morning, I dreamed of music without any sort of plot, I kept trying to understand the words, but they didn't make any sense. I woke up to Giles purring in my ear, and Ember meowing her creaky little meow. Their food bowls were empty.

I went back to bed and dreamed I was back on the cruise ship. I had asked where she had worked, and went to the lounge where she was checking out to leave the ship. She was glad to see her children's shoes. There was some kerfuffle with her paper work, so I agreed to sit with the kids while she went to take care of the issue. (She was just a few feet away at a big desk.) One of her supervisors came over and started telling me things I didn't need to know, and that were private. I told her I'm just the baby sitter, and it wasn't proper for her to share private financial information with me. I asked to see her supervisor. A ships officer was going by and intervened. I asked him to switch the family to my cabin, as I had three empty beds. He seemed to dislike the supervisor enough to ask me to wait there a moment while he checked to see if there was a way to do that. A porter stepped away from his station and brought the family's luggage, three small bags and one larger one to us, then asked what room I was in. I told him and he wheeled the luggage away. I started to stop him, as it wasn't resolved yet. But he just smiled a huge grin at me and indicated that I should just wait. The woman returned, obviously trying to be brave in front of her children. She asked where the luggage was going, but the porter just waved in my general direction.

I confessed that I might have done something rash. She started to refuse, but the kids jumped in with the "Please, please, pleeeeas! chorus." By the time she'd gotten them settled in, the officer was back, and had three extra room keys for me, and wrist bands to replace the ones the kids were wearing. The former supervisor just sputtered incoherently and walked away. I found myself hoping that I hadn't gotten myself in too much trouble. But the ship's officer assured me that we would all be treated just like regular passengers.

Plague

This dream was more than two weeks ago, but I dreamed last night that I wouldn't remember any other dreams until I wrote it down, so, here is what I remember (Without super graphic smell-o-vision, thankfully.)

Plague.

We had it, worse, in sheer numbers, than anything the human race had faced before. In pure percentages, we were only headed for sixty percent fatalities, or perhaps a little more. Some people had suffered a mild case early on, and that made us less likely to die. No less likely to get sick, it seemed, but less likely to die. Cities were the worst, of course, and places so isolated there was no food and water delivery system to keep everyone hydrated.

We thought the whole west coast would fail, but when the fatalities started racking up, the resources were suddenly sufficient to keep water flowing and heat and food delivered. Who knew we'd be so resilient in the suburbs.

Still. Things were bad. The death rate had gotten so high that there were two collections a week. One for normal refuse, and one to pick up the dead. Every week on Sunday night, the trash cans would roll out, and the bodies of the dead, marked with their names and birth dates, and the date they passed on, if there was someone to write it. Sometimes the people left inside could not take a person out, so they called on their healthier neighbors to help. So much sadness. So much despair.

I was headed home from one such outing when I noticed two little ones on the lawn bags next door. They were laying arms at their sides like little soldiers at attention, their names and vital dates written on their naked chests. Six and four, so little. I stopped, my breath catching. And they sobbed. I started.

What are you doing out here?

"Won't last the night."

"Don't want to stink up the house." the little one sniffled and coughed weakly.

Such brave little souls, I couldn't stand it and had to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from sobbing myself. I looked at their almost skeletal frames, though the younger one still showed some signs of baby fat, someone had made the attempt to comb their curly mops of shoulder length black hair, but hadn't succeeded in reigning in the wildness. Can only guess that they'd been asleep or unconscious when they'd been set out. They were both awake, and just, well, being brave about the whole thing.

I didn't think they would last the night...but I wasn't about to let them lay out in the chill night air.
I covered my mouth and nose, then put on fresh gloves, scooped them up and took them inside.

They were a mess, dried vomit, diarrhea, snot and mucus everywhere. I took them straight to the bathroom where I had the de-humidifier running full tilt to heat the room. (I found that helped keep me comfortable, so thought it might help them.) I filled my bath with water as hot as I could stand it, then took the little pair to the guest shower and washed them gently. They fussed a bit about their names and dates, but I promised I would be careful not to wash them off completely. On the other hand, they couldn't wait to be out of their soiled panties. Oh, they stank. I didn't even try to rinse them out but put the right in the trash and tied the bag shut.

I cleaned them as gently as I could, and they didn't fuss about it, falling asleep or passing out from time to time, so they were just limp on the pile of wet towels. However, soon color was coming back to their faces and limbs. I wrapped them in a big towel and carried them in one big pile to the hot bath, where I set them in to soak and warm up. Despite the warm shower water, they were still shivering. They agreed that they were much more comfortable than out on the garbage pile. I had to arrange towels in the tub to keep them from slipping under they were so weak. I didn't think they would make it through the night, but I was determined to make it as comfortable as I could. I arranged them so they could see each other and hold one another's hands, that seemed to help a lot. I closed the door and left them to warm up and let the warm moist air do its thing, I hoped.

I had fish stew, well it was more soup at this point, frozen fish heated up and cut into a batch of rice, kumquat peels, dandelion greens, grape leaves, peppermint and a dose of salt and brown sugar. It was still a little bit bitter, but it made me cough less and my throat was starting to heal, so I kept eating it. I brought some to the girls, hoping they hadn't drowned or died while I was fussing with the food. One of the side effects of the plague was that everything seemed to take twice or three times as long as you thought it would.

They didn't want to eat, because "you won't have enough, and we're going to die anyway." Without thinking I told them that if I ran out I would just have to eat them.

Wrong move.

They started crying.

I quickly pointed out that they wouldn't mind because they were going to be dead anyway.

That didn't help. It spent a few minutes to convince them that I was only joking around with them, and that I had plenty to eat. It wasn't working, they were just sort of whining weakly. That's when Giles walked in and climbed up on the bathtub. "See, I've even managed to keep my little kitties alive." Giles at this point was probably bigger than the little one.

Gile's happy chirping meow changed everything. I offered them food again, after giving a piece of fish to Giles. They sniffed it, then the little one took tentative tastes, the older one waiting to see what happened. I didn't expect them to have more than a tablespoon or so, as it was obvious that they were nearly dehydrated to death to start with. But the soupy stew seemed to agree with them, so I brought more of the broth for them to drink.

I got them dried off and put each of them in one of my t-shirts. The little one had to hike it up and I made a little belt to tie it up. They really couldn't stand up on their own very well, but insisted on looking at themselves in the mirror, so I lifted each of them up so they could see themselves. (I'd put them in my two cat shirts.) They were very sleepy, but breathing better than earlier. I propped them up on some pillows and made a little tent over them to help keep the air moist around them. I got out a book from my kids book collection and read to them until the fell asleep hand in hand. I went outside and sat in the hot tub, I honestly believe that was what was keeping me alive.

When I came back in I laid down gently so as not to disturb them, hoping that they would have a peaceful night.

They didn't. We made several trips to the bathroom. Several more hot showers, after the first accidents I diapered them with my small white shop towels. They complained but were too weak to fight it, really. The two of them drank the rest of the broth from the stew and so I started another batch. I discovered that combing their hair seemed to calm them down. By morning, they had actually eaten a bit of the rice and fish, picked out the green bits, and, though I was exhausted. They seemed stronger, and in better spirits. I actually felt hopeful we wouldn't need this morning's pickup for them. "Are we in heaven?'

"No, Sweety, if this were heaven you wouldn't need diapers."

I told them that I thought they were going to live. They both smiled, and asked for another story. (I read them "Anne Can Fly.")

At this point the dream turned into me trying to read from the pages, and having that very dream feeling that the words just weren't actually there, or weren't correct, or...well it was so off it pulled me out of the dream. I woke exhausted and drained, throat scratchy, coughing. At least I could tell where that part of dream came from. Miranda and Ember were tucked up on the pillows next to me, like the little girls in the dream. I had pulled the covers up over my head. I uncovered myself and was slipping back into the dream when the alarm light came on, right in my face. (Which is why I remember so much detail.)

I didn't manage to convey how weirdly depressing life had become under the plague. Sure we were pulling together to help where we could, but everyone retreated to their little quarantine zones as soon as a task was done. There were whole households that were empty now, and many places where there was only a couple of survivors. Children and older people were the most hard hit, myself and my neighbor kids being an exception, and even though I'd survived, everyone just expected me to relapse and die so the only thing I could do was help with the removal of bodies, sort of a "let the dead bury the dead" kind of thing. No one wanted me to help with any deliveries and I only drove myself to the store for cat food and essentials. Food wasn't exactly rationed, but people were trying very hard not to allow hoarding fever to kick in, that had destroyed several communities around the world. Social Media had become the news thing, and radio had become the community communication medium, all government meetings were broadcast live, and people could call in, it was oddly effective, and calming, but still somehow desperate seeming. We had plenty of everything, except mortuaries. The rest of the world was faring similarly, but some had used the plague as an excuse to raise up the specter of old wars and hostilities. Large military groupings without good medical support, however, were short lived in the field. Most of those campaigns fizzled and casualty rates were actually higher from disease than from combat. It seems that eventually, everyone's losses were too great to continue, trucks needed to be driven, trains and ships needed engineers, pilots were needed to ferry medicine and supplies, there just wasn't enough manpower to run around shooting at one another. Perhaps that was why things were working so well, we could all follow the news, hear the decisions being made, participate. The whole thing was an oddly utopian dystopia.