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March 2003

Mar 6 - Mar 8 - Mar 30

March 6, 2003

I was with a group of people who were probably some of my siblings like Gerry, Hannah, and a few others. We were at the area down by the tree house Charles and I built when we younger on the property where we grew up at on the top of South Hill. We may have been younger in this dream but not quite as young as when we actually lived there. We were in that clearing where the shell of the pink pool used to lie, the area where we would race our bikes toward the jump by the tree house and the area where Charles and I used to play catch with the little plastic football and practice our field goal kicking. I was walking with Trent and a few others in the direction toward the tree house and the jump; that would be west, I believe. In the middle of the clearing there was the actual pink pool lying there in a heap, neglected and crumbled with the passing years of wear and tear of exposure to the elements. I recall saying to Trent something like: “And here is the pool…” when we approached it. The one crumpled side of the pool that protruded upward awkwardly like a two-sided pyramid was the most prominent piece of this pool, the other sections probably grown over with the grass and surrounding earth. This thin metal, almost tin-like side of the pool had a design on it like pentagon shapes like those on a soccer ball which made it slightly resemble a large turtle shell. The pentagonal shapes seemed to be ridged as they would be on the back of a turtle. As I looked around the area I could start to notice things lying around that had been in this area since my childhood—apparently nobody had come through here in the 30 or so years since I played there and removed the pieces of toys and other things that I played with when I grew up there. I can’t recall exactly what these items were but even without knowing exactly what they were I knew it was stuff I interacted with when I played there as a child. Somewhere near the east end of the pool was a bag of some sort that had some fishing reels inside of it. These reminded me of the reels I had used when I went fishing in the bay with my dad. These reels had fishing line tangled all about them. Thinking I could use these for my own use for William and I to go fishing, I placed three of the reels inside a bag of some sort that I carried with me. This bag reminded me of the green tote bag thing that Lisa, myself, and the kids pack sandwiches and pop in whenever we go picnicking or camping, although the container I had in my dream was only half that size. In addition to the fishing reels I noticed one or two fishing rods in this area as well. One in particular was a good-sized rod, the perfect size and girth for fishing in the bay. Since I knew William and I already had one good salt water rod, the black one we got from my mother a few months ago, I decided to nab this one as well, only taking this one instead of more than one because I really only needed one, therefore I only grabbed one, because one was all I needed, just one. After this, I continued searching this open area for other things I wanted to take that were lying around from my childhood. I recall searching the sloped area to the southeast that led up to the house through some woods. I bent over at the bottom of this sloped area and may have grabbed a thing or two to take. The next thing I recall is being inside the house where I grew up in on the top of South Hill and being in a room that was probably on the bottom floor in or near the rec room. There were some guys there who I probably didn’t know and they mentioned how there was a gun in the corner of the room. I went to that corner of the room and I get the feeling there was a stool of some sort standing there, a three-feet-high jobbie made of light oak wood, just like one we have in our house now, or maybe it’s in the shed, or wait a second there it is just a few feet to the left of me as I type this. Underneath it was a pistol of some sort in a dark leather holster. I picked the gun up and examined it and it may have been one that my dad had when he was a cop or one that he personally owned. This gun I decided to take for my own along with the other stuff I had. I also remember seeing another gun that looked really cool. It was kind of like half pistol, half machine gun. The stock of this gun was a couple feet long and looked like it was made of thin metal pieces that joined together at a shoulder rest at the end. The other end was kind of like a pistol and this piece of artillery reminded me of a gun that could be folded out and elongated to be put into use as a rifle instead of the short pistol it could be packed up into. I grabbed this piece as well. I had my green skiing/winter coat with me and remember wrapping this around the two guns I had taken. It was a flimsy attempt at concealment as I tried to carry the guns out of the room in this manner. I was afraid that someone would notice me taking them as I left, perhaps someone that would pass me on the way in as I went out and I may have actually encountered someone, a man perhaps, but I can’t say for sure. I recall the long butt of the pistol/machine gun thing sticking out the bottom of the jacket as I clutched the garment in a desperate attempt to hide the weapons.

March 8, 2003

I was with a group of people that was probably my mom and a few other members of my family. Of course, there are a lot of vague details, hazy and all that, but what I remember is what’s important, right? I was walking around with these people in an undefined area. It may have been inside a building, it may have been outside a building, it may have been a place where there were walls and doorways leading into other roofless rooms. What I remember is walking from one area to another, almost reaching the doorway leading into the next place, then I heard someone whisper something like: “That’s Max Poppit.” There was a group of people sitting at a long table and I regarded them casually as I walked by, and someone in this group was the one who whispered my name. I realized someone had mentioned my name so I stopped and looked at these people gathered at this table and saw they were eating dinner, like it was a restaurant here and they were sitting and, having been served their meals, were chomping away. The table was about 6 feet long and kind of reminded me of one of those folding-legs tables that Lisa and I use at our photography events. On the other side of the table, from my right to left, was a woman, then a man, then an older woman. Instantly I recognized who they were. The guy in the middle was Donald Notches and to his left (my right) was Cynthia his wife, and to Donald’s right (my left) was Donald’s mom. As they sat there, they all looked older than what I remember them to look like, and I soon I realized that if I were to see them today then that is what they would look because they would be older, about 15 years older, which is about how long it’s been since I’ve seen them. Donald had shorter, still curly, grayed hair and his face still looked the same, maybe a tad thinner. His mother still looked the same because she already looked old anyway, but maybe she was a bit older in this dream. Cynthia had short black hair that made her look just like Catherine Zeta Jones does in that movie Chicago. I know I saw Cynthia looking like this because before I went to bed I saw her on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno and although she didn’t look like that as a guest, they showed clips of Chicago and she had that short do that Cynthia in this dream had. Donald kind of looked up to me and our eyes met as he held a fork halfway to his mouth on its way in or out. Cynthia sat there and looked 9 months pregnant and was wearing a light colored, probably white, dress. She seemed in a friendly mood and smiled a lot as she sat there and folded her arms across her chest and teetered back on her chair. There was also a guy about 17 years old who sat on the side of the table nearest me. He didn’t look familiar and I really didn’t know who he was until a little bit later in the dream. I realized he was actually Donald and Cynthia’s son. The last time I saw Donald Jr., he was less than a year old, not able to walk, and was trudging around Donald and Cynthia’s living room while holding himself up using the coffee table and various living room things. It would make sense that he would look this old now. This little gathering at the table is all I can remember of this dream but it seemed really cool, to meet people in my dream who look like they probably do now in present day real life instead of how I remember them to look 15 years ago.

March 30, 2003

Blondie, my niece-in-law, was in my house and I was helping her get a hot dog. There was a blanket on the floor, the light brown worn one we still have around, and she was lying on it in front of the TV in the living room. Although I cannot remember them clearly, I know that Lisa and my kids were home and, although I can’t remember Stuart or Cranston, I know they must have been there as well. I think I had constructed a fort out of the couches like I usually do and Blondie was, apparently, going to lie there on a blanket in front of the fort by the TV. She may have had a paper plate sitting there on the blanket and I was getting her a hot dog to eat. I remember seeing a little dab of ketchup on the plate and the plate was on the overlapped edge of the blanket. Blondie laid there and played with her hot dog a little and I was getting perturbed at having to watch her so I confronted Lisa about it. It was morning time and Lisa was on her way out the door to go to work. Apparently I had a job to go to as well and when I asked Lisa just who the hell was going to watch Blondie, her response was kind of vague; maybe it was just an expression and a few words, but from that response I could tell that she expected me to stay home and watch Blondie. Well I was pretty pissed because I had a job to go to, and I get the feeling that I had just started this job so I really wasn’t able to stay home and watch the little brat. Lisa had a little smirk on her face that suggested Oh well too bad! She was in the yard in front of the deck steps and stood there, fiddling with her keys in her hand, making it clear that it was up to me to stay home. This upset me pretty bad and I approached her and yelled “Shit!” and then “Fuck!” as loud as I could. The kids watched on and they, as well as Lisa, were calm as hell as I vented my anger for having to miss work, which would probably cause me to lose my job since I had just started it.

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