Dream of:07 May 2001 "Strawberries Rather Than Blueberries"
Several family members (including my mother, my father and my sister) and I were staying for a few days at the Ressinger House. Although my great-aunt Dorothy wasn't there (she had left for a few days), in the kitchen she had left several items of food for us to eat. Mostly she had supplied us with various types of deserts there must have been 20-30 different kinds. But when I sampled some of the desert, I was disappointed by the lackluster taste. One desert wasn't even cooked it looked like the ingredients of a pecan pie in a bowl. It tasted awful.
I did find one thing which interested me: a green knapsack. I picked up the knapsack and carried it into the room where my mother and my sister were. Standing in front of them, I pulled a bottle of amber whiskey from the knapsack. I thought the whiskey had probably belonged to my great-uncle Curt. I didn't open the bottle, but I thought I would probably take a drink later. I noted my mother didn't seem to mind my having the whiskey. My sister, however, piously seemed to think there was something wrong with drinking the whiskey.
I left them and walked back into the hall which led to the kitchen. In the hall, a small boy was on the floor close to an open door which led to the basement. He was certainly a strange-looking little fellow. He looked as if he had no body, only a head, about the size of a grapefruit. Afraid he might roll down the basement stairs, I pushed him away from the doorway with my foot, and I closed the basement door. My mother stepped into the hallway and picked up the little boy; now I could see he did have a body, although small and completely out of proportion with his head. His neck was extremely tiny. But, maybe he would someday grow up and shape up.
I walked back into the kitchen where my sister was now busily preparing a late snack for herself and my father. She had heaped a scoop of whipped cream onto what looked like a blueberry pie. Obviously, my sister was intent on currying favor with my father, and I knew she was too selfish to fix any for me. But, it didn't matter. I could fix my own; and I would rather have strawberries than blueberry pie anyway.
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