The Farm House
I had a very vivid dream last night. I woke up (in the dream, not from it) and I was in my bedroom back in the farmhouse outside of Paradise; the bedroom I had in eighth grade (my brother and I switched rooms for that year, our last on the farm). It was early in the morning, everyone in the house was asleep, though I didn't know at the time who was in the house, and it was completely dark with just a hint of moonlight peaking in through my window. I went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator and took out a cookie. It was like one of those sugar cookies with the thick sugary frosting that Val and Judy from Abigail's Attic got me hooked on; the ones they always have at the grocery store decorated for whatever holiday it's nearest.
I had one cookie and remembered, feeling guilty, that I was on the South Beach diet (which I am). I turned to go back to bed, but decided I really wanted one more. I ended up having at least three, at one point aimlessly going through cabinets looking at plates (in real life my neighbor Walter had just donated an entire set of matching china this past weekend and I swear those were the ones in the dream) before stepping out into the living room. The room had an eerie glow to it. I remember this room looking this way before, not from when I lived there, but because this scene is recurring in my dreams. I look outside and see people in the round end of our driveway, right where everyone used to park when the would visit, except for the really formal people who'd park near the front door, and then use that, rather than the backdoor like everyone else.
I jump at the sight of the strangers outside. I literally jump to the floor. I take a quick glance out the window, and then crawl back up to a crouching run down the hallway. It's now obvious to me that I've woken my mom and I feel guilty because she might find out that I ate so many cookies. She's gonna find out anyway in the morning when she opens the fridge but I don't want her to know right now.
Somehow I convey to her that there are people outside the house and I don't know why. She takes me to my father who explains to me that it's the crew there to work on the house. They are going to take off the old roof, put on a new roof that is taller, and adding broad doarmers down the length of both the front and back of the house. It's going to look sort of like Laura Palmer's house when we're done. I think to myself, that it's odd that the crew would arrive in the middle of the night and that I wouldn't have even been told about the remodeling. But I don't stop to ask my dad why.
The next thing I know my whole family is now outside and awake at a picnic table in the backyard. The sky is more golden brown than anything else, but I still know it's dark. We are laughing and eating, and I look at the ground which is where it would have been in real life. I realize in the dream, that when I was a kid I always used to want my dad to hire someone to raise the roof and make a second story to our house, so my bedroom could be upstairs. Then just for one short second I realize I'm dreaming, and since I'm in control I decide to do the other thing I wanted to do to our house; lower the level of the yard on the south yard, make the basement a walk-out with a deck above it that my parents' and sister's bedroom would both open up to. Then the dream is over.
I had one cookie and remembered, feeling guilty, that I was on the South Beach diet (which I am). I turned to go back to bed, but decided I really wanted one more. I ended up having at least three, at one point aimlessly going through cabinets looking at plates (in real life my neighbor Walter had just donated an entire set of matching china this past weekend and I swear those were the ones in the dream) before stepping out into the living room. The room had an eerie glow to it. I remember this room looking this way before, not from when I lived there, but because this scene is recurring in my dreams. I look outside and see people in the round end of our driveway, right where everyone used to park when the would visit, except for the really formal people who'd park near the front door, and then use that, rather than the backdoor like everyone else.
I jump at the sight of the strangers outside. I literally jump to the floor. I take a quick glance out the window, and then crawl back up to a crouching run down the hallway. It's now obvious to me that I've woken my mom and I feel guilty because she might find out that I ate so many cookies. She's gonna find out anyway in the morning when she opens the fridge but I don't want her to know right now.
Somehow I convey to her that there are people outside the house and I don't know why. She takes me to my father who explains to me that it's the crew there to work on the house. They are going to take off the old roof, put on a new roof that is taller, and adding broad doarmers down the length of both the front and back of the house. It's going to look sort of like Laura Palmer's house when we're done. I think to myself, that it's odd that the crew would arrive in the middle of the night and that I wouldn't have even been told about the remodeling. But I don't stop to ask my dad why.
The next thing I know my whole family is now outside and awake at a picnic table in the backyard. The sky is more golden brown than anything else, but I still know it's dark. We are laughing and eating, and I look at the ground which is where it would have been in real life. I realize in the dream, that when I was a kid I always used to want my dad to hire someone to raise the roof and make a second story to our house, so my bedroom could be upstairs. Then just for one short second I realize I'm dreaming, and since I'm in control I decide to do the other thing I wanted to do to our house; lower the level of the yard on the south yard, make the basement a walk-out with a deck above it that my parents' and sister's bedroom would both open up to. Then the dream is over.
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