Smoking Cats

Last night’s dream was utterly bizarre. I’ll document what I can while the memory is reasonably fresh.

My friend, Jim from Dallas was to smoke a brisket for a large gathering. This gathering was to be held at a house in the country, an older place that sat on many acres. Jim arrived with the brisket, which he put in the refrigerator. He brought two live cats, as well, which he apparently intended to smoke, as well, and asked me to put the live creatures in the refrigerator. I didn’t quite understand the cats, but I tried to do as asked while the cats bit and scratched me. During the attempt to put the smaller of the two animals in the refrigerator (the refrigerator was a small one, like a dorm fridge), I noticed that something was wrong; it was no longer cooling. Jim checked and determined that the refrigerator wasn’t working, so he asked someone else in the room (there were several people there, though I’m not sure who) to go buy ice. I opted to let the cats roam the house while other preparations were underway.

I looked out the window and saw that my brother (the one who’s now in the hospital) was driving up the driveway. Then, others started coming down the drive; they were early by a couple of hours, which panicked Jim.

I heard a commotion in another room. When I entered, I saw my late sister and one of my nephews, along with many other people, sitting at a table loaded with baked goods, mostly pies and cakes. One of the cakes was extensively decorated with lettering; there were so many words on the cake it looked almost like the page from a book. My nephew pushed his hand down into the middle of the cake. When he pulled it off the cake, the top of the cake bounced back up, but some of the lettering was gone, leaving smooth white icing in place of the now disappeared lettering, but the rest of the lettering reappeared. My sister was upset with my nephew’s action and gently let him know it.

Another look out the window revealed a semi truck backing a large mobile home onto the field across the road in front of the house. One entire side of the mobile home, the one I could see from the house, was open, revealing several furnished rooms. People were in each room, seemingly oblivious to the fact that their home was in motion and the walls along the side of the house were missing.

While the semi truck was positioning the “open house” across the street, the minister of my church turned into the driveway.

And that’s all I remember. The memories of last night’s dream are melting away as I finish typing this. Strange things bubble up in the brain during the night.


About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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