Blue_Opossum

From January 15, 1964. Wednesday.



This is an old recurring dream from around ages three to four.

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I am in a large old house with two floors and a large staircase. Some of the design is based on mahogany constructs or veneer at least. There is a familiar smell, somewhat like cinnamon at times, but later, a lot like that seemingly old but strong unusual wood scent (and for me, very nostalgic) that I used to smell when walking by certain old apartment buildings that had a wooden staircase and with an entrance door open to the public at street level. I only know of two locations in real life where I had caught that special scent in such a perfect way - one of them being the Rose Street apartments - which no longer exist, the other being in an area I only walked by a few times in another part of town.

The house is possibly partly based on Evelyn W’s house in real life (on Tenth Street in La Crosse) which was a place I visited as a young child and picked out “Little Red Feather” (which I have included details about in other entries) to keep, as I was given a choice to take one of the toys inside the large “toy box” (actually a large laundry basket) as my own and I chose a red plastic Native American figure in a kneeling position. I should point out that my wife Zsuzsanna had an imaginary friend called “Little Red Feather” (also as a child) long before we met, which is of course, only one of hundreds of very precise and incredible meaningful “coincidences”.

In my dream, an unknown dark-haired and green-eyed lady comes to the house to give me a toy steam shovel. I am not sure why; I do not think it is for my birthday or for Christmas.

Not much happens in my dream, though there is somewhat of a sense of being isolated at times. I sense the woman is “for” me but I will have to grow up and wait a long time before we meet (and she does not remind me at all of my mother in my dream, who I never saw at this younger age anyway). I remember standing around in the semidarkness at one point, wondering when she would return.

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It seems my wife-to-be (who was not even born yet) is somehow already in my path (or at least the detailed essence as such). There was no question on the appearance. She gave me the steam shovel “to dig or build my path to her”.