Over the years, my step-uncle Ivan has appeared in 16 of my recorded dreams (my father, in comparison, has appeared in 1,062 dreams during the same period). My father was born in 1932, the son of my grandfather Cole and my grandmother Mabel. My grandfather Cole died in 1947 (almost five years before I was born in 1952). Subsequently, in 1949, my grandmother Mabel married my step-grandfather Clarence, who was already the father of Ivan.

Soon after Mabel and Clarence married (around 1950), they moved to the Pike County Farm (approximately 200 acres in southern Ohio), where they remained until 1963, when they moved to the Gallia County Farm (388 hilly acres) in southeastern Ohio. They lived on the Gallia County Farm until Clarence died in 1993.

After Mabel and Clarence moved from the Pike County Farm in 1963, Ivan moved with his wife and children onto the Pike County Farm. He received the Pike County Farm as inheritance when my step-grandfather Clarence died in 1993, and he remains there to this day.

Dream of: 11 August 1973 "Enveloping Water"

With my father and my mother (in their early 30s), I was visiting my paternal grandmother Mabel and my paternal step-grandfather Clarence in the Farmhouse (on my grandparents' 388 acre Farm in hill-cradled Gallia County, in southeastern Ohio). It was summertime; the trees and fields were green and I felt young.

I walked outside and headed down the hill behind the Farmhouse to the old milkhouse-barn  at the bottom. After I had reached the barn and looked over the stacked hay, my step-grandfather Clarence pulled up on his tractor and announced that he needed to load 17 bails of hay onto the platform-lift behind the tractor to take to his cattle.

I told him that I would help, but that I first had to urinate. I walked to the side of the barn and urinated (much longer than usual). I became engrossed with the sensation as if I were experiencing a protracted sexual orgasm.

Having finished, I returned to Clarence, helped him load the hay, and then climbed onto the tractor. Another man (whom I didn't recognize) stepped up, climbed onto the rear of the tractor with me and sat down. Once the man was seated, he opened his mouth and displayed some hair growing inside. When I realized the tractor wasn't moving, I figured out that a hair in the man's mouth had to be pulled to set the tractor in motion; so I reached into his mouth and jerked one of the hairs, whereupon the tractor immediately jolted and we were on our way.

While his four healthy dogs bounded along beside us (two older dogs appeared younger and stronger than usual), Clarence steered the tractor around to the front of the Farmhouse onto Symmes Creek Road. Clarence then pulled off the Road and into the field at the bottom in front of the Farmhouse, where muddy Symmes Creek flows. After Clarence began driving along the edge of the creek, he soon ventured too close to the edge and the tractor began tumbling over the bank into the water. Only now (as I managed to slip unharmed off the side) did I notice my father and my step-uncle Ivan (Clarence's son) also on the tractor. They, along with Clarence, were drug into the enveloping creek. Fearing the worst, I sat down on the bank and waited for them to re-surface my terror and fear prevented my jumping into the water to save them.

Finally, I leaped up from the ground and dashed toward the Farmhouse. Running as fast as I could, I reached the Farmhouse, rushed inside and cried to my grandmother and my mother that the tractor had crashed into the creek, that my father, Ivan and Clarence had drowned and that I had been unable to save them because I hadn't known life-saving. My mother rushed from the Farmhouse (with me following) and headed toward the spot where the tragedy had occurred. As we approached the creek, we heard voices, and I began to harbor hopes the men had survived.

When we reached the creek, however, we found seven strange men sitting on the bank to the left of where the creek had swallowed the tractor ... seven men brandishing rifles and shotguns. A rotting moose head lay on the ground near the men. When I plaintively asked the men why no one had helped with the accident, they just laughed. I repeated the question and they continued laughing.

In anger, I picked up some mud and slung it at one man the mud struck him in the face. When the man in turn picked up his gun, my mother and I ran, and he chased us, back toward the Farmhouse. When I reached the Farmhouse, I raced inside, grabbed one of Clarence's guns and began loading it. I aimed the loaded gun at the man as he climbed up the hill in front of the Farmhouse.

My grandmother stood in the room watching the scene; she seemed ancient and completely disconcerted by the events.

Ivan was a tall lanky man. I do not think he finished high school. He was poor, raised tobacco, and smoked cigarettes himself. He sometimes worked as a logger, cutting trees for logging companies. He settled down with his wife and four children in the Pike County Farmhouse and never had to pay any rent. I rarely ever saw him, except when by chance we would both be visiting my grandparents at the same time at the Gallia County Farm.

Dream of: 05 October 1978 "Fleeting Images"

I took two pounds of marijuana to Ramo's house (Ramo was a friend with whom I started using drugs when we were both seniors in high school in 1970). I wanted to sell the marijuana to Ramo, but when I realized Ramo did not yet have the money with which to buy the marijuana, I left.

Outside in the street I encountered Rico (a German acquaintance I met while I was in Iran in 1978), and we began playing a game of chase. As I chased Rico through the streets, we came to a fire station and walked inside. We saw a firetruck, as well as the beds where the firemen slept. We also saw two, large, glass jugs of milk. Since Rico and I both had mugs with us, we each filled our mugs and drank a mug-full of milk. As we filled the mugs a second time, intending to leave with them, Rico asked a fireman how much the milk cost. He was told the milk would cost 1,000 rials (currency of Iran). We thought the price was ridiculously high. Finally the fireman said the milk only cost 60 rials and we paid him for it.

***

I returned to Ramo's house where I found Ramo in a room on the first floor. When I poked a stick in a hole in the chimney in the room, I could hear stones which I had knocked loose falling inside the chimney. It sounded as if the chimney had no floor and that the stones continued falling down.

I noticed Shannon McGee (an acquaintance from my home town of Portsmouth, Ohio whom I met in 1977) sitting in the room, smoking a joint. He said the marijuana he was smoking was some of the same marijuana I was selling. I praised the marijuana, took a hit from the joint, and passed it to Ramo.

Ramo and I then walked upstairs to his room, where I saw many little white bags full of white powder on his dresser. Ramo said the powder was just like psilocybin mushrooms and that the powder was good when sprinkled on marijuana.

Other people were also in the house; I heard Ramo's parents coming up the stairs. Obviously they knew what was going on in Ramo's bedroom, but they didn't say anything. Suddenly an excited man burst into the room. At first I thought the man was a policeman, but he was only complaining because he couldn't pay his rent because Ramo owed him $200. When two or three other men also showed up, a fight seemed to be in the making; but the men finally left without further incident.

I stood up and told Ramo if he would simply sell one pound of marijuana, he would have enough money to pay the man. When I also told him he should do something with the white powder, he gave me one bag and I began snorting the powder from it.

I noticed a doll in the room which reminded me of my brother Chris (five years my junior, crippled with muscular dystrophy). The image of Chris made me remember a time when I had been with Chris at the Pike County Farmhouse. I recalled that my step-uncle Ivan, Ivan's wife, and two small girls had walked into the room. Chris had spoken with one of the girls, and then they had all left.

I always thought my father and my side of the family were superior to Ivan and his side of the family. Ivan was poor and had accomplished little with his life. My father was college-educated and geared toward wealth. After I entered law school in 1981, my disdain for Ivan only increased, especially since I felt he was little more than a parasite consuming my grandparents' estate.

Dream of: 21 September 1982 "Parasites"

I had gone to visit the home of my step-grandfather Clarence and my grandmother Mabel. The house was a rather modern one which reminded me somewhat of the House in New Boston (a ranch style house which my father had built in 1968 on a hill in New Boston, Ohio).

Mabel wasn't there; I had the feeling that she had died and that Clarence had inherited the house; but Clarence likewise wasn't there.

I walked into the living room which soon began filling with people whom I perceived to be relatives of Clarence and who seemed to be somehow related to my step-uncle Ivan. The more I looked at them, the more I thought that they were only in-laws or step-relatives of Ivan and that the relation with him was rather tenuous. They were a rather unsavory bunch. They weren't dirty, but they seemed uncouth and several of them were rather overweight.

I wandered into the kitchen; someone had carried in a package of sweet rolls in an aluminum foil tray wrapped in plastic. It seemed there was little to eat in the house and it appeared that in general these people were parasites dissipating Clarence's wealth. Their behavior bothered me and I wondered if Clarence would force the people leave if he returned home. As I looked around the kitchen, I wondered if any roaches were in the house. If roaches were there, I doubted any of these people would even bother to have them killed.

I walked back into the living room; the people had left. In their place I found Jon (my friend from law school) standing shirtless in the middle of the room. Jon and I talked and the conversation turned toward law. He told me that he had been learning to do title searches and that he was planning to do title searches when he became a lawyer. I personally had no desire to do that kind of work (which seemed rather mundane to me), but I thought title work was at least a skill which he could learn and at which he could become proficient.

When Jon became rather nasty, I felt increasingly as if I wanted to get away and I had the distinct impression he was going to do something to hurt me. When he left the room to go outside, I was sure he was going to fetch something with which to injure me. Thinking now was a good opportunity to flee, I stepped out the back door.

I now realized that I was barefoot and that I would have difficulty leaving without shoes. I looked around; lying nearby was a pair of blue shoes which looked as if they might fit. They were plastic slip-ons and the material reminded me of a pair of my girlfriend Louise's shoes. I slipped them on and they fit. From outside, through the back window, I could see Jon had reentered the living room. Even though I thought he might be able to see me, I began running away.

The house was in the country and was surrounded by a forest. The land had been cleared in the direction in which I ran; to my left were piled some trees and brush which had been cut down. A rather high steep bank was on the other side of the piles of brush. Wanting to reach a road beyond those piles, I kept running along the clearing looking for a chance to cross over to the road. Finally I found such a spot, crossed over to the road and ran along it.

I had only traveled a short distance when two girls rode up on a vehicle which resembled a motorcycle. After they stopped, I climbed onto a small seat on the side of the motorcycle and we rode off. When one of the girls commented about my shoes, I told them I had stolen them. Seeing that they were alarmed, I explained the circumstances of my escaping from Jon. I told them that Jon had stolen some things from me and that I was just getting back what belonged to me.

They finally let me off and I boarded a bus which continued down the road. It looked like a school-bus inside; about a half dozen young girls (about 15 years old) were in it.

As we rode along, I looked out in front of the bus and was surprised to see that a large deep trench had been cut into the road. The trench wasn't across the road, but rather ran right down the middle. The trench was small at first; the bus driver drove over it with the left tires on the left side and the right tires on the right side. No problem; but the trench kept widening and widening. Unable to see the bottom, I was afraid it was quite deep. We continued racing along astraddle the trench; but it was becoming clear that the trench was becoming so wide that the tires soon wouldn't reach both sides.

The driver suddenly turned his wheels sharply to the left, obviously trying to make the right tires jump over to the left side of the trench. The bus veered to the left and the tires came off the right side. At first I thought the tires were going to make it across the trench, but then I heard the bottom of the bus hit the edge of the trench on the left side and the bus ground to a stop, hanging precariously over the trench. The right side was over the abyss and the left tires were still on the road on the left. We seemed to be tottering. Thinking we were about to fall into the chasm, I quickly told all the girls to move to the left side of the bus to balance the bus and keep it from falling.

They moved to the left, but to no avail. The bus tumbled into the trench. I wasn't really that frightened; I told the girls to be calm. The bus immediately fell on its side on the bottom of the trench, which was only about three meters deep. No one was injured. The bus lay on its side and we quickly climbed out the upper windows.

Once I was back on the road, I noticed another bus with mostly old people on it had pulled up. I thought maybe we could board it, but then I noticed the girls getting into a car which had pulled up. When the girls asked me if I wanted to go with them, I decided accompanying them might be best, and I climbed into the back seat.

Three or four of us were in the back seat and at least four in the front seat. The car was being driven by a young fellow. I put my arm around a black-haired girl sitting close to me. The black-haired girl changed places with one of the girls in the front seat and a different girl sat beside me, but she didn't seem quite as friendly.

The girls talked about what they had been doing that day and the girl beside me said she had smoked marijuana for eight hours. Her remark netted my attention. Wondering if they might have some marijuana with them, I asked if they had any. When they all said they didn't, I was a little disappointed. But then the girl sitting on the right side of the front seat pulled out a little crushed-up cigarette package and passed it back to the girl sitting next to me. She pulled a joint out of the package. I told them I hadn't smoked any marijuana in six or seven months.

The girl to my right put the joint in her mouth and turned to the girl next to her. That girl stuck something in her mouth and moved her teeth together, causing a flame to shoot out from between them. The girl with the joint in her mouth put the joint to the flame between the other girl's teeth and lit up.

It suddenly struck me that all the girls were under 17 years old and that smoking marijuana with them might be a serious violation of the law. I couldn't remember the law exactly, but I thought smoking with a minor was probably a felony. I leaned over the front seat and asked the driver, a rather scruffy-looking fellow, how old he was. I asked, "You are at least seventeen, aren't you?"

He said he didn't know. I thought that was strange, but I concluded that he must be an orphan who had never been told when he had been born. The closer I looked at him, the surer I was that he was probably only about sixteen.

I then said, "Well, there's something I never mentioned to you all before. I'm a law student."

My statement seemed to startle everyone. They seemed to immediately become apprehensive that I might try to have them arrested; but I continued talking and expressed my fear of being arrested myself for smoking with minors. My explanation assuaged their fears.

When the joint came to, I took a hit. A large piece of marijuana fell out the end of the joint and into my hand. I thought I would just put the piece of marijuana in my left shirt pocket and keep it for later. I thought I already had a little bit of hash or something in that pocket with which I could mix it.

After I stuck the marijuana in my shirt pocket, the girl next to me patted my shirt pocket. Something round was inside the pocket; she thought the object was a small container for drugs. I told her the object was only a little flat can (about the size of a half dollar) of cold cream. It resembled a can which I had seen my girlfriend Louise have.

Suddenly the driver said that a police car was behind us. I thought the police would surely catch me and my law career would be finished. We were close to the banks of the Ohio River somewhere near Portsmouth, a place where I hadn't wanted to go. We turned behind an old abandoned building and as soon as we were out of sight of the police car, I jumped from the car and ran toward the river, where brush and trees abounded. I hid and watched what happened.

Ultimately, in 1993, Ivan inherited the 200 acre Pike County Farm and my father inherited the 388 acre Gallia County Farm. I was definitely attached to the Gallia County Farm.

Dream of: 17 June 1989 "Plowing The Fields"

Early in the morning, someone had just awakened me. When I got up, I discovered that I was in the Gallia County Farmhouse, and that several of my relatives were still asleep in the next room, but outside, my step-uncle Ivan and his sons were already plowing the fields.

***

I was in the back seat of a large blue car which contained several of my relatives. A girl who seemed like my wife Carolina was in the front seat. We were riding through Gallia County and I explained to the girl (who had never been in Gallia County before) where we were and what we were passing.

My sister was also in the car; when we passed a small white cottage, she said that she had been thinking about buying the cottage, but that she now saw that it was too small. Indeed, from the front, the cottage looked as if it only had one room. As we passed, however, I saw that the cottage was longer than I had thought, but my sister still seemed to think it was too small.

As we rode along, I began singing about how I loved Gallia County and how I would rather live there than anywhere in the world. Since I had been born in Gallia County, I felt as if it should be my home.

Finally, whoever was driving the car got out from behind the steering wheel and put the car on automatic drive. The car continued on over hills and curves without anyone driving it. Some of the road was very rough and almost impassable.

Deciding it would be safer if I drove instead of the car remaining on automatic, I slipped over the seat into the driver's seat and began steering. The car was a bit unwieldy and I had some problems with driving, but I managed. At one point we came to a hill where practically no road remained. I needed some effort, but I made it up the hill.

At last we reached a village which reminded me of Patriot (a small village in Gallia County). I had difficulty stopping at a stop sign because the brakes didn't seem to be working. It seemed to me as if this car belonged to my father and as if he must have strong feet to get these brakes to work. A couple cars almost hit us as we passed through the intersection.

There was a large school building in the village which I pointed out to the girl and identified as Grant Junior High School (where I attended junior high in Portsmouth, Ohio). I knew she had heard about the school before, because I let her read my dreams, and the school had appeared in many of my dreams. I was glad she was finally able to see what the school looked like.

I am attached to many things. Objects of my attachment, like flowers, bring me pleasure. Yet I retain the abiding feeling the attachments are the source of my pain. Ivan, the character in my dreams, seems to be most understandable by viewing him through the prism of the concept of "attachment." I am attached to the concepts of family and land, yet I want to be free of all attachments.

Dream of: 25 February 1993 "Tom Flowers"

While I was sitting in a dining room at a table with my father and my grandmother Mabel, my grandmother began talking about a dream which she had had about me. She said that in the dream I had gone to Kentucky and had married one of my step-uncle Ivan's children, a girl named Tom Flowers. Completely surprised, I shouted out, "Tom Flowers?"

I recalled that a short time before, my mother had also told me about a dream which she had had. In my mother's dream I had married my mother's granddaughter, a girl named "Tom Flowers." I was astounded that my grandmother Mabel had dreamed I had married someone with the same name as the girl I had married in my mother's dream: this must have profound implications. When I told my grandmother that my mother had had the same kind of dream, my grandmother said "myths" like that often come true.

I jumped up, thinking I would look for my mother. I wanted to verify she had had that dream. When I asked someone where my mother was, I was told she was in the next room. I wanted to talk with her and ascertain that I was correct that she had had the same dream as my grandmother. I was amazed that two people could have had the same dream about me.

I was also thinking if Tom Flowers was Ivan's child, then she would be my cousin. I couldn't marry my cousin. But then I realized that Ivan and I weren't related by blood, and that I therefore might be able to marry her.

This character Ivan has something to tell me about my attachments. I want to be free of my attachments, yet I still want to keep all the things to which I am attached.

Dream of: 06 December 1994 "Rotten Branch"

My grandmother Mabel (about 60 years old) and I were in the back yard of the Pike County Farmhouse. As we talked, my step-uncle Ivan (about 40 years old) showed up. He was tall, lanky, and slim. I hadn't seen him in quite a while and we began having a friendly talk. He lived about 60 kilometers away, and had driven up just to stay for a few minutes. I thought it a pity he was going to be leaving so quickly. I thought he might want to take a walk back through the hills.

It had been springtime for a couple months, but this was the first day I had been able to get out into the country. It was beautiful outside and I was enjoying myself.

In the back yard was a rather large tree which resembled a mesquite. I climbed up on one of the branches, enjoying the feel of climbing a tree. Ivan climbed up the tree and together we sat on a branch about 12 centimeters in diameter. When the branch began to bend from our weight, I jumped off and said we should be careful lest we break the branch. Ivan said not to worry about it, that it wouldn't break. But no sooner had he spoken than the branch bent under his weight and broke off.

I climbed back up the tree to look at where the branch had broken. The tree was rotten in that area and large black ants were in the rotten area. Ivan stuck his hand into the rotten area, and pulled out some of the ants. I thought they would bite him, but they didn't. Some other branches also looked as if they had rotten spots on them. I told Ivan we should clean out the rotten spots. After Mabel picked up a small red spade and handed it to me, I took the spade and began cleaning out the rotten spots. Someone had trimmed the tree before, and some of the stumps on the upper branches had grown rotten. As I knocked the stumps off, I encountered more large black ants. It looked as if the tree was infested with the ants. Nevertheless, I continued knocking off the rotten pieces and digging out the ants, hoping we might still be able to save the tree.

What I want is control over my attachments instead of my attachments having control over me. Sometimes I seem to have control, sometimes I don't. I can't seem to maintain a constant control.

Dream of: 30 July 1996 "Extravagant Spending"

My wife Carolina had made a startling confession to me: within the last week she had gone on a binge and had spent somewhere between $15,000 and $20,000, using credit cards to run up the bills. But what was most incredible was what she had spent the money on: she had been paying for luxury hotels and meals for my step-uncle Ivan and Ivan's sister, my step-aunt Lou. This seemed incredible to me. I wasn't close to either Lou or Ivan, and I hardly ever saw them. I couldn't imagine why Carolina would be spending money on them.

Carolina didn't look like herself. She was the same height and size as normal, and she had the same black hair, but her face and mannerisms were different (something about her resembled the actress/comedian Janine Garafalo.) After confessing her deed, Carolina said nothing more; she simply stood silent and listened as I pummeled her with questions, trying to get to the bottom of this. It seemed to me as if she must be sick, and I even asked her if she thought she was sick. She just gave me a blank stare, but she still seemed to understand what I was saying. However I didn't think she was sick. I just didn't know what to think.

As I finally began to calm down, I began thinking that since Carolina had run up such debt on the credit cards, we would probably just max them out. I knew we had started out with over a hundred thousand dollars worth of credit on the cards, and I thought I obviously wouldn't be doing anything wrong at this point if I simply went ahead and used up what was left on the cards.

***

I was in a car, headed to the hotels were Lou and Ivan were staying, intending to stop them from running up any more bills. I was in the back seat on the right side, and Carolina was sitting right in front of me in the front seat. Somebody else was driving the car, and a fourth person was sitting on the left side of the back seat.

As we rode along, we passed the Gay Street House (the huge Victorian house in Portsmouth, Ohio where my father had lived since 1964), and I noticed my 1968 Ford pickup was parked on the street beside the House. I was surprised to see my father busy doing some kind of work on the truck. As we passed by, I leaned over to my left so I would be down in the seat where my father would be unable to see me. I felt guilty seeing him, a hard-working man, out there trying to save me a few dollars by doing some work on my truck for me, while I was out running up big credit bills. As we passed, Carolina didn't duck down, but I doubted my father would recognize her anyway.

***

Lou and Ivan were staying at different hotels, and we first headed to the hotel where Lou was staying. By the time I arrived at Lou's hotel, I was extremely angry with Lou and Ivan, thinking how they had been taking advantage of Carolina and me by allowing Carolina to pay for their rooms. I knew they had had the most expensive rooms available, and apparently they had even obtained separate rooms for their children, further running up the bills.

When I reached Lou's room, I burst in without knocking. Lou was sitting at a table, apparently about to eat something. She didn't seem surprised to see me, almost as if she had been expecting me, as if she knew this couldn't go on forever. I immediately told her to get up, that we had to leave. She didn't resist or complain. She picked up two large bunches of red grapes lying next to her (grapes which seemed on stems like red roses), and stood up from the table. She clearly knew she had been behaving badly by running up the bills, and she didn't protest in any way.

***

I was riding along in a bus which had only a few people in it. Lou and Ivan were sitting at the front of the bus, while Carolina and I were sitting at the back. I was still enraged at Lou and Ivan, and I felt like venting my anger. I stood up and began screaming toward the front of the bus. I pointed at the white jacket I was wearing, and I screamed that I had only paid $50 for the jacket. I further shouted that I had never paid more than $50 for any of my jackets. I was trying to contrast my frugality with buying clothes against their outrageous extravagance in spending thousands of dollars for hotel rooms.

***

Carolina and I were in the kitchen of the House in Patriot (the home of my maternal grandparents when I was a child, in the small village of Patriot, in Gallia County, Ohio). I was still questioning her about the bills she had run up. I had realized she had only told me about the charges because she knew I would soon receive the monthly bills in the mail, and I would find out anyway. I had also realized that one day in the previous week Carolina had taken a trip to Las Vegas and had spent the night there. I recalled that Carolina had been gone one night, but I had had no idea that she had gone to Las Vegas. It was startling to think that she could have just disappeared to Las Vegas without my knowing. I now wanted to know more about what had happened on the trip, and what kind of bills Carolina had run up in Las Vegas, but Carolina still wasn't talking. She just seemed perfectly calm, a bit like a zombie in a trance. However, even though she didn't respond, I thought she understood perfectly well what she had done.

I told her that in my entire life I had never heard of someone doing something like this. But then I added that actually I had seen something exactly like this once in a movie in which Melanie Griffith had played. In exasperation, I finally even threatened Carolina with divorce, but I knew that I loved her too much for that, and that I wouldn't actually divorce her. In fact, through it all, I couldn't help but notice how pretty and sexy Carolina looked, and I had the constant feeling that I just wanted to hold her in my arms.

Realizing I wasn't getting anywhere, I decided to go out into the back yard and shoot my gun. I had a nice-looking revolver, probably a .38 caliber, which I hardly ever shot. I thought I didn't usually shoot the gun because bullets were expensive and I didn't want to waste money on them. But now, with all the money which was being wasted, it didn't seem to matter. If we were going to spend our money the way Carolina had done, I might as well get a little fun by shooting my gun.

Once in the back yard, I looked around for something to shoot at. I knew I needed to be careful not to hit the neighbor's house when I shot. Finally I saw a small tree, and I decided to shoot at it. I held my left arm horizontally in front of me and holding the gun in my right hand, I rested it on my left arm. I realized that wasn't my normal way of holding a gun, but I thought I would try something new. I focused in on a knot on the tree and fired. I then looked at the tree and saw that it looked as if I had put a hole right in the middle of the knot.

Just then Carolina followed me out of the House, and I proudly pointed out what I had done. I was glad she had come out to join me, and already the episode with the bills was beginning to seem like a distant memory. It was as if it just didn't really matter. The important thing was that she was with me, and I liked being with her.

We walked over to the tree to examine what I had done. I was surprised to see, however, not a knot on the side of the tree, but a small wooden carving of a Trojan head, about 20 centimeters high, which had been attached to the tree. I had shot a hole right into the head. Both Carolina and I were perplexed as we looked at the carving, wondering where it had come from and what it was doing there on the tree.

We didn't dally by the tree. Instead we walked to the rear of the yard where I wanted to show her something which I had found earlier. When we reached the place, I pointed out a pile of dirt and told her to listen. We both then listened to what sounded like growling and barking dogs. I told her it looked to me as if some dogs had a den there under the ground. This also seemed very strange to me, because I had never heard of dogs having a den under the ground like that.

Suddenly, not eight meters away from us, I saw a deer standing at the side of yard. Carolina saw it too. I quickly decided to shoot the deer. I aimed and fired. The gun went off, but the deer didn't fall. The deer obviously hadn't been hit. Not seeing how I could have possibly missed, I looked at the gun, moving the chamber so I could see if it had bullets in it. Then I saw what the problem was: some of the chambers were empty. I moved the chamber so it was now ready to shoot two bullets in a row.

Again I pointed at the deer, but now I began to have second thoughts. Did I really want to kill this deer? I then realized this deer had become tame from being fed corn there in the back yard. It didn't seem right for me to kill it. Carolina said to shoot it, but I couldn't. Instead I just lay down on my back on the ground, and watched as the deer walked over close to me. It looked as if I were even going to be able to pet it.

More specifically, Ivan represents my attachment to family. Familial attachments have strongly chained my mind all my life. Conceiving what life would be like without such attachments is difficult. I can't help but wonder if I would be better off without them.

Dream of: 05 August 1999 "Dragon In The Tunnel"

Randy Ramey and Mike Walls (two friends from my late teens) had ridden to Columbus with me in a truck which I had driven. After renting a motel room, we all three went to a stadium where some event was supposed to take place in an arena. As soon as we entered, however, we became separated, and instead, I ran into someone else I knew, one of my step-cousins, a son of my step-uncle Ivan.

As my step-cousin and I began talking, I soon  realized he was rather religiously inclined. He was even carrying a small box which he opened to show me some religious books inside. I noticed a small pocket-sized copy of the New Testament, as well as a pocket-sized copy of the Koran. Although he had the Koran with him, he didn't seem to know much about it, and he asked me if the Koran was a book in and of itself, or if it was a book which was part of another larger book. I knew I was fairly knowledgeable about the Koran, but I was unsure of the answer to his question.

Instead of answering his question, I asked him if he were familiar with a king mentioned in the Koran, a king by the name of "Orrin." He indicated that he had heard the name, but that he was unsure of exactly who Orrin was.

I asked him if he had heard the story of "the tunnel" and how Orrin had traveled through the tunnel. I then inquired of my cousin whether he knew the significance of the tunnel. I myself recalled the story, how Orrin had traveled through a dark tunnel, and had finally come out to a resplendent light on the other side. I thought the tunnel and the light had some kind of metaphorical significance, but I had never figured out exactly what they signified.

 I also asked my cousin if he had ever read the Book of Mormon. I knew I had read most of the book, and had found it, like the Koran, to be a complicated and intriguing work. I wondered if my cousin would be impressed to know I was also knowledgeable about the Book of Mormon.

 I returned to the story of Orrin, and mentioned that while Orrin had been in the tunnel, he had also met a dragon which he had been forced to fight and overcome. Once again, I knew the dragon had some kind of metaphorical significance, but I didn't know what the significance was.

A black-haired woman, probably 20-25 years old, who looked somewhat Indian (from India) was standing nearby, listening to us. She was shorter than I by about a head. Although she also was somehow apparently distantly related to me, she was obviously attracted to me. She seemed to be impressed by the way I had been talking about the Koran and about Orrin. I was also attracted to her. She drew closer and closer to me, until finally we had put our arms around each other and began moving together as if we were dancing. I wondered what her name was. I had the vague notion that I had heard someone call her "Wanda", but I was unsure of that. At one point she asked me if I had ever put my hand on a man. Clearly she wanted to know if I had any homosexual leanings. I laughed and replied, no, that I had never put my hand on a man unless I was trying to choke him for some reason. She seemed satisfied with my answer, and I could tell she was even more attracted to me.

However, I suddenly had a problem – I recalled that I was already married, and I had a wife somewhere. I thought I should tell the woman I was married. Maybe she would stay with me even if she knew. But I was afraid she would back away, and I didn't want to lose this glowing feeling which I was having with her. So instead of telling her about my wife, I simply pulled her closer to me and said nothing.

As I held her in my arms, the word "lithe" kept going through my mind. I reflected that I hardly ever used this word, and I wasn't even sure I knew how to use it correctly. Nevertheless, I finally told the woman that she was "so lithe." She seemed to like what I had said. I thought I should tell her more about myself. She would probably be impressed to hear that I was an attorney, but I really didn't want to go into detail about describing myself to her.

Suddenly, without warning, the event which had been taking place in the arena came to an end, and in the massive exodus of people from the stadium, the woman was swept away from me. As I starred at the dispersing crowd, I realized I didn't even know the name of this fantastic creature. As I was also pushed by the throng out of the stadium, I feared I would never see the woman again.

Standing outside, I began to realize that it was cold and wet, that I was tramping in slush, and that my feet were soaked. As I sloshed along, I realized my truck was parked on the other side of this massive stadium. I also realized I didn't even have the key to the truck. I then remembered Walls and Ramey, wondered what had happened to them, and hollered for Ramey.

When no one answered, I forged on, headed toward the other side of the stadium. But what would I do when I reached the truck, if I had no key? I was miles from the motel. Depressing. An ugly situation, and I didn't know how I was going to get out of it.

What about my attachment to all mankind? Do I really care about anybody? Honestly, I do. I am attached to the world of people around me. But just like my attachment to Ivan, that attachment is tenuous.

Dream of: 03 November 1999 "Telling A Joke"

My father and I were in the living room of the Gallia County Farmhouse, watching a small blond-haired boy (about 3 years old). My father frequently baby-sat for the boy, who was somehow related to me. I liked the little fellow and had always remarked how well-behaved he was when he was around me, even though I knew he wasn't always so well-behaved around my father. I wasn't bothered when my father stepped out onto the back porch and left the boy with me.

I was occupied with a tall floor lamp sitting in the room. The lamp, which had a round bowl-like milk-glass shade, had a problem with the socket where the light bulb screwed in and I was trying to fix it. In the process, I held the lamp up over my head as I bent over and examined the wiring. Suddenly, I felt something on my back, and with shock realized the glass shade had fallen off the lamp onto my back. I gingerly grabbed the shade, safely pulled it from my back and set it down. I could hardly believe I had come so close to breaking the shade. That would have been a disaster; the lamp was such a fine old piece.

While I had been working with the lamp, the boy had been running around the room, and to my surprise, had begun acting very obnoxiously, even mouthing off to me. I was disappointed to realize the boy must be passing through an obstreperous phase. As I turned to him to address his baleful attitude, I was still holding the long stem of the lamp in my hand. Immediately when the boy saw me turning toward him with the lamp, he ran out of the room toward the back porch where my father was. I knew exactly what the boy was going to say even before he said it, and I was unsurprised when I heard him blurt out to my father, "Steve tried to hit me."

My first reaction was to go out to my father and defend myself, to say that I hadn't tried to hit the boy, that I had simply had the lamp stem in my hand and the boy had mistakenly thought I had intended to hit him with the lamp. But I refrained. I decided my father would surely not think I had intended to hit the boy. If my father had any questions, I would simply tell him what had happened when he came back into the house.

Instead of my father and the boy, two men walked into the house from the back porch. I recognized the men as carpenters who had been working on the Farmhouse. One man was about 40 years old, while the other was a young fellow about 20. I couldn't be sure, but I thought the younger fellow looked as if he might be one of my step-uncle Ivan's sons.

As the two men proceeded with their work, they were very friendly. The younger fellow told me a joke which I didn't understand, but at which I laughed anyway. The older fellow then decided to try his hand at a joke, and he asked me if I knew what a "Russian Nigger" was. I liked a joke as well as anyone and I appreciated the men trying to be so friendly, but I wasn't interested in hearing a racist joke. At that point, I only felt disgust for the man.

After Ivan inherited the Pike County Farm and my father inherited the Gallia County Farm in 1993, Ivan basically disappeared from my life. The image of Ivan's uncouth greed, however, still remained mirrored in my own greed.

Dream of: 17 March 2002 "Remainder Interest"

I looked into a mirror and saw that, unawares, I had been wearing some strange things on my face. Five or six beads were attached to what appeared to be a leather string hanging down from my lower lip. Someone had stuck the string on my lip without my being aware of it. I was also wearing some little pins and things hanging down over my eyes. Five or six little beads were on different pins stuck on my face. I had been with some people and I hadn't even been aware all the things were on me.

As I started pulling the things off, I was surprised by how much better I looked without them. I was about 20 years old and I had a thick head of good-looking short hair. I continued to look in the mirror and to be amazed at the difference after I had taken the things off my face.

After I had finished clearing my face, my mother and I went to the Pike County Farmhouse. I had learned that my paternal grandmother Mabel and my paternal step-grandfather Clarence had moved back to the Pike County Farm. When my mother and I pulled up in front of the Farmhouse, an old red car (which still looked good) was sitting in front. We had to pass through the front of the car in order to reach the Farmhouse. Clutter was everywhere. We went through one door of the car and out the other, then walked into the Farmhouse.

Clarence and Mabel were in the Farmhouse. Glad to see Clarence, I hugged him and told him I loved him. I then hugged my grandmother. I could tell they were both upset because they had been forced to move back to Pike County. I started talking with them about it.

I had earlier been to the Gallia County Farm, where my father and my step-mother had told me that Clarence and Mabel had moved back to the Pike County Farm. I didn't understand why they had moved back. I hadn't expected to find Mabel upset about the move, but she was very distraught. She could hardly believe my father had forced her to move off the Gallia County Farm. Obviously her whole attitude toward my father had changed and she was very unhappy with him, especially since she was now so old. I noticed all her nick knacks had been moved back to the Pike County Farmhouse, which definitely wasn't as nice as the Gallia County Farmhouse. I told Mabel I didn't understand why my father had made her move. It didn't seem right. Most people continued to move up in life when they moved to another house, not back down as my grandmother had been forced to do by moving back to this old Farmhouse.

Some other people were in the Pike County Farmhouse. I looked for my step-uncle Ivan and his wife Molly,  since I knew Ivan and Molly had lived in the Pike County Farmhouse for a long time, but I didn't see them anywhere; I was unsure what had happened to them.

My mother and I finally decided to take Mabel somewhere. I asked Clarence how far the Pike County Farm was from Portsmouth. When he said it was about 40 miles, I realized the Pike County Farm was about the same distance from Portsmouth as the Gallia County Farm was from Portsmouth. I thought when Clarence had bought the Gallia County Farm and moved there from the Pike County Farm, he had probably been looking for someplace about the same distance to Portsmouth as the Pike County Farm because he liked to travel that distance when he went to work in Portsmouth.

My mother, Mabel and I boarded the car which my mother was driving. Mabel and I sat side by side in the back seat and talked. Finally, however, I spread my legs apart and she sat between my legs with her back to me. I put my arms around her and hugged her. I was surprised that she had become so fat.

Mabel mentioned that a woman had been on the Gallia County Farm for two days, and that during those two day, my father and my step-mother had had sex for a total of 130 times. Mabel asked me if my father was using any drugs, and I told her I didn't think so. I didn't know of his taking any pills. I wasn't surprised, however, to hear that he had sex all the time. 

As Mabel continued talking about why she had moved to the Pike County Farm, she seemed to be reconsidering whether she would bequeath the Gallia County Farm to my father when she died. I told her I had recently been thinking a lot about that subject, even though I hadn't previously thought much about it. I told her the worst problem was my father's refusal to tell me what he intended to do with the Gallia County Farm. Mabel had always divulged her intentions, just as my mother had always said what she intended to happen to her estate. My father, however, wouldn't say. His reticence made me suspect my father had decided to give the the Gallia County Farm to someone else and not to me.

Mabel realized if she left the Gallia County Farm to my father, then my sister and I would receive nothing because my father would give everything to my step-mother. Since my grandmother was closer than ever to death, I thought about the subject more than ever. Mabel said she knew it was on my mind. Finally I suggested she change her will. I told her she should leave a life estate in the Gallia County Farm to my father, with a remainder interest to my sister and me. I tried to explain that my father would then have the use of the Gallia County Farm all his life, but she would be sure that my sister and I would finally receive the Gallia County Farm.

I knew persuading my grandmother to change her will would be difficult, but she seemed amenable to the idea.

Just as Ivan had inherited the Pike County Farm from his father Clarence, I hoped I would one day inherit the Gallia County Farm from my father. I feared, however, that my desire would never be realized. 

Dream of: 15 June 2002 "Leaning Tower"

My step-uncle Ivan and I had walked to the area where the old milk house used to stand at the bottom of the hill behind the Gallia County Farmhouse. About 20 white roosters with red cockscombs were standing together near the well-house. I was surprised to see so many roosters and no chickens.

Although the big loafing shed was between us and the Farmhouse, I was able to look over top the loafing shed and see the Farmhouse on the hill. The Farmhouse sported a new addition which looked like a square tower, three or four stories tall. The tower appeared to be leaning somewhat to one side in a way which reminded me of the leaning tower of Pisa. I pointed out the tower to Ivan and mentioned the leaning tower of Pisa to him. We moved a little so the loafing shed wasn't between us and the Farmhouse. Now the tower no longer appeared to be leaning. I thought perhaps the loafing shed was unlevel, causing the tower to look crooked.

       I wondered if the tower would hold up against a heavy wind? Probably; it was attached to the Farmhouse on the lower levels and constructed of heavy lumber. It appeared quite sturdy.

A black wolf-like animal was sitting near me. When it began to come right at me, I didn't know what its intentions were, but I hoped it wasn't going to attack me. It seemed harmless at first, but as it drew closer, I realized its eyes had turned red. It became furious and growled fiercely. As it approached, I noticed the hair on its back standing up. The animal seemed to have transformed into  an evil creature, but still had the shape of a wolf. As it came closer, I could see every evil scary thing about it. I became frightened. Then out of nowhere came a larger similar animal which seemed to be coming in my defense. The two animals began fighting and tearing into each other. The animal which seemed to be defending me was winning. It won the fight and looked at me with soft peaceful eyes. I thanked him. He nodded and ran off into the woods.  

Ivan and his family had never been particularly important in my life, and as the years passed they became even less so.

Dream of: 09 December 2003 "Forgotten Names"

I walked through the front door of my father's Gay Street House in Portsmouth, then ascended the front stairs to the front upstairs bedroom. Although I wanted to lie down and rest, I first walked into the upstairs living room to see if my father was there. He wasn't in the living room. Since the two large French doors to the middle bedroom were closed, I pulled open the doors and looked into the bedroom. The figures of two people under a white sheet were discernable on a bed in the room. Certain my father and a girlfriend were in the bed, I turned and headed back to the front bedroom.

I had just lain down on the couch when two little boys walked into the room. Perturbed, I stood and walked out into the hall where I discovered some more boys. Apparently they were simply walking in off the street. I thought they might know my father, but I was uncertain. I simply wanted them to leave and I made my desires known to them. Two of the boys were bigger than the others (they might have been 14-15 years old). They took offense to my demanding their departure and wanted to fight. Although I certainly didn't want to fight with them, I thought I could probably handle myself if I had to they were much shorter than I.

We worked our way back into the middle living room. I intended to point out the boys to my father and seek his advice on the matter. Before I could find my father, however, the boys departed and several new boys showed up. The new boys looked as if they were 16-17 years old. I didn't recognize them at first, but finally realized that two of them were my step-cousins, sons of my step-uncle Ivan. I was embarrassed because I couldn't remember their names. I asked one if he were Ernie, but then I remembered Ernie had been Ivan's son who had drowned years ago. They were very friendly and they asked me if I wanted to go for a ride with them. After I decided I would, we all walked outside and boarded a big bus which one of the boys began driving.

As we headed north out of Portsmouth, I was enjoying myself, except for being a bit worried that we were traveling too fast, especially when we turned onto a small gravel road. I became frightened when we headed down a tiny narrow road on the edge of a cliff on our right. I could see a lake down below. The driver was having difficulty and I was afraid we were going to crash off the edge. If we landed in the lake, I thought I would probably drown.

Suddenly, however, the bus reached the bottom of the road. Unfortunately we had arrived at a dead end and didn't have room to turn the bus around. I could see no way we could back up the hill. After the bus stopped, I got out. In front of us was yet another hill with a dirt path which I examined to see if we might be able to drive the bus up it. The path was clearly impassible.

Off to the right was the lake. I could see several people not far from me on the shore of the lake. We were in such a secluded place, I thought the people must have hiked there. When I heard people talking nearby, I hid behind some bushes to watch. I stayed hidden as four women riding horses rode past me and continued up the road.

After the women had passed, I noticed a small house and I walked inside. Once inside the house, I realized my old college friend Randy Ramey lived there. Since Ramey wasn't home, I looked around the house and even went through some of Ramey's things. I was in the bedroom when I heard Ramey coming in. I threw some clothes under the bed just as he walked in. He looked about 20 years old and he seemed happy to see me. Almost immediately however he noticed a picture was missing from the wall. One picture (which looked like a paint-by-number picture) was still on the wall, but another picture which was its mate was missing. I thought I might have knocked down the picture. When Ramey bent down on his knees to look under the bed for the picture, I also looked under the bed. When Ramey saw the clothes which I had thrown under the bed, he asked how they had gotten there, but he didn't say anything else.

Ramey and I stood back up and walked outside. I was wondering how we were going to get the bus back up the hill. I thought perhaps we could get a rope and pulley and pull it up. When Ramey seemed as if he would be willing to help, we boarded his car and drove back up the hill. I figured we would go and fetch the materials we needed to pull the bus back up the hill.

As Ramey headed toward Portsmouth, a woman in the car suddenly handed me her cell phone and told me I had a call. I took the phone and listened as a woman's voice came on. I immediately recognized the woman as Mireya (an Hispanic friend from Dallas); I was happy to hear her voice. I began talking to her in Spanish and telling her where I had been. I described the lake and told her that caves had been along the edge of the lake. I told her the place was "maravilloso."

She began telling me why she was calling. One time I had left some "buckskin" jackets with her and she wanted to know if I still wanted them. Vaguely remembering the jackets, I told her yes, I would like to have them.

Even though I no longer had any contact with Ivan and his family and even though the death of my step-grandfather Clarence had essentially broken the tie between us, they still somehow remained related to me in a familial way.

Dream of: 29 October 2006 "Dick Schleicher"

I was sitting in a classroom with 15-20 other people, while my father (50-55 years old) was seated at a desk at the front of the class. We had assembled for the reading of the will of my step-grandfather Clarence. My father, who had already seen the will, pulled it out and quickly informed everybody that nobody there would receive anything, that my  grandfather had left his entire estate to one person, a man named "Dick Schleicher."

I was stunned. Who was Dick Schleicher? And what was my father thinking? I looked at him and incredulously asked if my grandfather had left anything to him. He repeated what he had already said -- everything went to Dick Schleicher.

People began getting up and leaving. I stood up and walked over to my father. I wanted to see the will for myself. He handed it to me -- it was several pages. I quickly noticed two things: the will had been written in 1978 and it had been prepared by Smith (an attorney from Portsmouth). I blurted out that Smith had known all these years about my grandfather's intention but had never said anything. Of course, I reflected that Smith, being an attorney, had a duty to keep silent. Nevertheless, it seemed odd that Smith had written my grandfather's will.

More puzzling, however, was the identity of Dick Schleicher. My father had no idea who Dick Schleicher was. My mind began racing. Perhaps Dick Schleicher was dead. Perhaps he couldn't be found. In that case, the estate would be divided according to intestate distribution. Such a distribution wouldn't help me, however. My grandmother Mabel was still alive and she would inherit almost everything. I would still get nothing.

Still, everything going to an unknown man seemed unfair. Nothing had been left to my grandmother nor to my step-uncle Ivan nor to the children of my step-aunt Lou. Everything had gone to an unknown Dick Schleicher in a will made almost 30 years ago -- it just didn't seem right.

Ivan was the kind of man I never wanted to be. Yet even he had redeeming qualities which I learned better to appreciate over time.

Dream of: 30 October 2010 "Close To The Edge"

I was driving toward Portsmouth from the direction of Cincinnati. The black and white car which I was driving wasn't performing well, so I was a bit worried. The car was the only one I had and I was running out of money, so I didn't know what I would do if the car broke down. I thought of my step-uncle Ivan and recalled how he used to drive old junkers and how they would break down on him. Finally, however, he had managed to drive a decent car. I realized I needed to pay more attention to my car and take care of it.

I pulled into a store along the side of the road. When I stepped out of the car, my nephew David (my sister's son) was standing there. When I spoke with him, he expressed concern about my car. As I listened to him, I looked around and realized if I hadn't pulled into the store, I would have passed over a high bridge with a deep valley far below. I had pulled my car right up to the edge of a cliff which fell down into the valley. I walked over to the side of the cliff and looked down. I was amazed how far down the valley was. It frightened me that I was standing so close to the edge. I stepped back and grabbed the open car door. I told David what I had seen when I had looked down and he walked over to the edge (he now only looked about 10 years old). I told him to be careful. If he fell off the edge, that would be the end of him. He looked over the edge.

I realized I had parked my care precariously close to the edge. Pulling out of there would be difficult. I thought I needed to pull out before I continued my conversation with David.

I succeeded in not being like Ivan. I succeeded in lessening my attachment to family, and ultimately I may succeed in not being attached to the land.

Dream of: 08 November 2010 "Childless"

I was in the Gallia County Farmhouse with my father, my mother, my sister, and my paternal grandmother Mabel. We were all sitting at a table in the kitchen and talking among ourselves. My father (only about 50 years old, still with black hair) seemed very sad. He was sitting straight across from me. When the subject arose of what my father was going to do with his property when he died, he looked at me and said he wasn't going to give me anything. I became angry and I asked him to whom he planned to give his property. When he said he was going to give it to "the baptists", I could hardly believe he intended to give his property to some kind of baptist group.

We all stood up and walked around. I started talking to my sister about what my father had said, but I referred to the baptists as "the catholics." When I asked my sister if she knew my father was going to give all his money to the catholics, she said she did. She was also very upset about it.

I thought half of my father's property actually belonged to my mother. I thought perhaps she could step in and at least give her half to my sister and me. My mother, however, seemed distracted, as if she didn't know anything about it.

I was thinking that my grandmother still owned the the Gallia County Farm and that she didn't have to give the Farm to my father. Finally, my grandmother said she had lost faith in me. I didn't know what she was talking about, but I thought she might be referring to my never having had children. I asked her if she still had faith in my step-uncle Ivan. I knew she and my step-grandfather Clarence intended to give something to Ivan. She looked extremely angry and I realized I wasn't going to be able to count on her for anything.

I thought I was simply going to leave. Remembering that I had brought some comic books with me, I thought I would leave the comic books and return for them later. I thought I would simply hitchhike back to Portsmouth. I didn't want to have anything to do with anybody, although I realized that at least my sister felt the same way I did. After I asked my sister what she knew about everything, she and I walked out onto the front porch, which was high up in the air so I could look far down over the side. I looked down toward Symmes Creek, saw men working down there, and realized they had torn down the bridge in front of the Farmhouse. Apparently the men were replacing the old bridge with a new one.

My sister pulled out a newspaper and began trying to explain where my father's money was going to go. She said it was going to the U.S. Treasury. I was very upset. I said that the Treasury was the same place where all the taxes went and that the money was used for all kinds of things, such as wars. I pointed to the workers on the bridge and said they would probably get some of the money. She then pointed out a picture in the newspaper of statue for the Treasury. She wrote some figures on the picture which indicated how much my father had already given to the Treasury. It looked as if he had already given $61,000. I thought to myself that he had already handed over tens of thousands of dollars to the Treasury.

Then my sister simply threw the newspaper off the porch and it landed on the ground far below. I knew she had been doing my father's accounting work for years, so she knew a lot about what was going on. When she started to throw some unused postage stamps off the porch, I stopped her. I picked up the stamps and put them in a bag which was full of all kinds of unused stamps which I thought belonged to my father. I thought the stamps should be saved, even though I was unsure I would ever receive any of them.

As my sister and I continued talking, I realized we were on the same side. I knew my father had previously told her what he intended to do with everything, but I had only found out just now.

I didn't see much more I could do. I figured I would simply take off walking and hitchhike back to Portsmouth. I was unsure, however, how I was going to be able to cross the bridge. It looked as if there might be enough left of the bridge for me to cross, but I was uncertain.

Somehow I ended up with a peaceful feeling about Ivan.

Dream of: 29 November 2010 "Fixing The Roof"

I was in the Gallia County Farmhouse where my grandmother Mabel was living. My step-uncle Ivan was also there, as well as a man (probably in his late 60s, who reminded me of the pastor of the church in Portsmouth) who apparently was living with my grandmother. When the man told Ivan he would give him $2,000 to repair the roof on the Farmhouse, Ivan immediately went outside and began working on the roof. Several other men were helping him. When I finally walked outside, they were all getting ready to leave for the day. Even though it was only about 2:30 p.m., they were packing their tools into a truck.

I walked down toward the bottom of the hill to where the old chicken house used to be. Some old dilapidated buildings in the area looked as if they needed to be torn down. One was a log building. I wondered if the logs could possibly be salvaged, but I didn't think saving them would be worth the effort.

When I walked back up to the Farmhouse, I noticed a piece of heavy machinery sitting in the side yard. It was a yellow hydraulic shovel, with a cab where the operator sat and a boom extending out in front with a big bucket on the end. Although the cab was empty, the four wheels suddenly moved and the machine began rolling. The machine rolled around in front of the house right in front of the front porch. The bucket came down on the ground right at the top of the retaining wall in the front yard and the cab lifted up into the air.

Then I noticed my grandmother and another older woman had walked out into the front yard. The cab of the machine was up in the air and swung around and hit my grandmother, knocking her down the steps which led from the front yard to the bottom of the hill. The other woman just stood there as I ran over to the top of the stairs. The woman wasn't trying to help. Apparently she was working as a nurse for my grandmother, and she said that helping my grandmother wasn't part of her job.

I started running down the stairs, but before I could reach my grandmother, she fell down more stairs all the way to the bottom. When I reached her I thought she was dead, but then I realized she was still barely alive. Her neck was twisted and appeared to be broken. She looked horrible. She didn't look like herself. As I knelt down beside her, I noticed a little black electronic device by her side. I heard a voice on the machine talking about "spirits going up." The voice was rather eerie. It wasn't my grandmother's voice, but it seemed to have something to do with her.

I thought she was going to die. I thought my father was in the Farmhouse. I hollered up for someone to call an ambulance, but I knew my grandmother would be dead before an ambulance could arrive.

I just want to die peacefully. Whether I have land or family is unimportant to me. I just want to be at peace with myself.

 

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