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Peter Hentges

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December 19th, 2006

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10:34 am - Who are you people, and what are you doing in my dreams?
It was a cavalcade of LJ friends in my dreams last night. Many of us were at my grandmother's home for Christmas celebrations. (Yes, even you, barondave.) For reasons that remain obscure in the cool light of morning, sraun was working with my father on some sort of wood-working project. During the course of that he received a rather nasty cut on his index finger. (This in spite of wearing protective leather gloves.)

The injury sent me scrambling to assist. It seemed to me like he would need stitches as the finger was bleeding fairly steadily. So I put on my shoes and consulted with my parents on where to take him for assistance. The consensus was that the clinic in town (the small town of Blackduck, MN) wouldn't be competent enough to handle this emergency and so I should drive sraun to the hospital in Bemidji, 20-some miles away. He didn't think things were that bad, however, and so declined.

We eventually ended up in front of a pair of tall, floor-standing metal cabinets. Very much like the kind that hold office supplies here at work. With sraun dripping blood on the floor, I dug into one of the cabinets in search of first-aid supplies only to discover that it was filled with pasta. Boxes and boxes of fettuccine, spaghetti, rotini and other shapes. I remarked to myself in the dream that I would have to remember to tell erickavan that we didn't need to purchase any more pasta for a while.

There were other faces of friends scattered through the dream, but the main plot seemed to involve this finger/pasta episode.
Current Mood: confusedconfused
Current Music: I'm Your New Lover--Byther Smith--via Pandora

(2 comments | Leave a comment)


[User Picture]
Date:December 19th, 2006 06:56 pm (UTC)
Your grandmother and I are old dream-friends.
[User Picture]
Date:December 19th, 2006 10:01 pm (UTC)
I dreamed that an LJ friend I like pretty well wanted to have sex with me (but we didn't, for reasons of opportunity) and, separately, Someone Famous treated me like someone interesting.

K. [it's a dreamy kind of day, seems like]

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