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This dream starts off with me as a passenger of a very old fashion car that looks like a vintage Model T without the canopy. The vehicle is severely lop-sided as the front left tire is normal, but the front right axel sports two tiny tires that look like they belong on a wooden pull wagon, not a car. I am in the backseat and the driver of the vehicle is a young woman dressed like a mennonite (in a pale beige dress), minus the bonnet to cover her light brown hair that has been pulled into a tight bun. I have on a grey mennonite dress as well but I think nothing of it in the dream even though I would never be caught dead in a dress in waking life. I know I am looking for something, but I an unable to say what, even when the young mennonite woman offers to help me search. It is for the search of that unknown thing that I have accepted a ride in her oddly designed car.

It is daytime and clear and we are somewhere deep in Southwestern Ontario's Mennonite country, as I remember it from childhood. It must of just stopped raining because the road is extremely bumpy and filled with deep muddy pits as well as various debris that looks as though it has been deposited in the middle of the road by a mud flow. I cannot remember asking the driver how we will get around all the debris and mud, though I do recall her saying that the old car was "tough and like a tank" and it could drive over, and through, anything. She proves this point when we come across what looks like a crushed silver sedan sticking out a shallow mud pit. The vintage vehicle seems to struggle a few times, especially with it's two tiny front wheels on the right side, but on the fourth or fifth attempt it is sucessfully able to drive over the crushed sedan.

There is a large white farmhouse a head of us in the distance that it sits in a depression in the landscape and is completely surrounded by water. The ground level of the building is no doubt flooded with water. As we drive closer the old vehicle slowly starts to become submerged and I am worried that it will stall, but it is strangely unaffected by the rising water level. The front door of the farmhouse opens as the driver parks the car and gets out. The woman who walks out of the farmhouse looks identical to the driver of the vintage car, only she is a bit taller and more corpulant, and is wearing a pale pink dress. It is obvious to me that they are sisters. The two of them seem completely oblivious to the muddy water that has flooded the entire farm even though it is knee deep.

They invite me into their home and allow me to look around at my leisure, but ask that I do not venture into the upper floors. While every room on the ground has been flooded, the water is relatively clean and clear, besides the occasional household object floating in it, unlike the murky and muddy water outside. In great contrast to the simplistic ideals of the mennonite lifestyle each room is decorated, even crammed, with old fashioned household items, knick-knacks, trinkets, oddities, toys and even the random out-of-place modern item, (like a brand new Spider Man plushie I found in a linen closet). Many of the rooms look more like a museum than a living space.

One stange thing I notice is that located in several rooms through the house there are three antique bisque dolls that have been tied together. The first group of three are all identical, dressed in earth tone Victorian fashion, blond curly hair and are tied toegther with what looks like twine. The doll on the far left is missing an eye. They are located in one of the first rooms, which I think is a lounge. The second group of three is located in what looks like a guest bedroom. The dolls are all identical looking with pale blue Victorian dresses, light brown hair and are tied together with a thin peice of red silk. The doll on the far left has a large crack down the middle of her face.

I find a narrow wooden staircase and sense what I am looking for up there. Before I go up I look through a nearby window and see a vast farmers field that is devoid of water and with large mounds spaced at regular intervals. Whatever is growing in the field is under the large mounds. I hear a faint "meow" and I suddenly realize/remember that I am looking for my cat Zrinyi. I quickly run up to the second floor and find her at the top of the stairs in a yellow cat carrier. There is a room beyond where I find my cat and the heavy wooden door is slightly ajar. I sneak a quick peek and see the last group of three dolls that are tied together. They are in what appears to be an old Victorian style office, sitting on the top shelf of a dark brown book case. The windows of the room have been boarded up and broken lines of light give little illumination to the heavily dusty room. The dolls have black dresses and are tied together with a thick peice of rope. None of the dolls have heads and the one on the far left looks as if it bled when the head was removed, as the white collar of it's dress has been stained red.

I hear one of the two sisters downstairs and quickly return to the ground level. I leave Zrinyi where she is and plan to return to get her. Now that I have found what I have been looking for, I am filled with a sense of urgency and desperately want to leave the farmhouse, but I suddenly feel like I am trapped and that I am not going to be allowed to leave. The sisters implore me to come and meet their father and brother. Up until this point I was unaware that there was anyone else in the house other than the two sisters since I had been through all the ground floor rooms and seen no one.

In a room that has suddenly appeared near the rear, right side of the house sits two men dressed in modern clothing on a modern sofa, staring at a large screen t.v with blank, glazed expressions on their faces. The sisters are frantically running back and forth trying to attending to every need and want of these men, and are completey ignored for their efforts. The room is heavy with anxiety and fear towards the two men, who have a dominating and meancing presence. I stand in one corner of the room and watch helplessly as the older of the two men (the father, I assume) starts to yell at the younger of the sisters for something, though I cannot remember what. He starts physically assaulting her and I yell at him to stop but he ignores me. Until I call him a "lazy misogynist," that is, then he turns is rage towards me and I flee from the room, but I am not scared and instead laugh, knowing that I struck a nerve and made the violent man react out of his own insecurity.

I run towards the narrow wooded stairs where Zrinyi is hidden, but instead I find the older of the two sisters at the bottom of the stairs holding the empty cat carrier. I realize at this point that the farmhouse is no longer flooded with water, but the floors have severe water damage and everything the water touched is now moldy and rotting. The older sister nods her head towards a nearby window and through it I can see the vast field that had the large mounds. It is newly plowed and through it runs hundred of black cats of all shapes and sizes. I think to myself "It's a black cat farm!" and know somehow that the cats had been grown from the field and where what was under the large mounds of dirt. I also realize that it is from my own black cat, Zrinyi, from which the "seeds" for these grown cats had been harvested, though I am not exactly sure how they did it.

I demand to know where my cat is but the woman in the pink dress just shrugs. She has a tired and worn look on her face. The dream becomes fuzzy at this point and I do not recall exactly how I found my cat, but I do so at some point, and try to flee from the farmhouse. The two sisters try to stop me but they tell me that they do not really want to, but will face further violence from their father if they do not try. I feel bad for the sisters, but I am tired of the entire place and just want to leave. I push them out of my way and storm out the front door which I first came through, with Zrinyi held tightly in my arms.

There is an old farmhouse and barn in front of me. I can see an older couple working in field out back. I am not sure which, but the couple is either just really old fashioned pioneers or menonites. There is a doorless shed by the east side of the house and I wandered into it. Along with an assortment of old fashioned farming implements, homemade brooms line the far wall. I ask the old mennonite man if I can buy one when he comes over to see what I am doing tresspassing in his shed. Instead I am hired (or forced?) to become a live-in-maid to keep the farmhouse clean.

The mennonite couple disappear and a new couple appear as owners of the farmhouse. They are still older, but they look like they come from the Victorian era. I cannot think of anyone whom the lady of the house (the Mistress) looks like, but the man of the house (the Master) looked very much like Christopher Walken. The outside of the farmhouse looked the same, as did the barn, but the doorless shed disappeared and a long covered porch now wrapped itself around the east side of the house.

The inside of the house was still mainly Victorian/Edwardian era but seemed to have some seemingly out-of-place modernizations scattered randomly about. Though the house wasn't all that large, there was another maid who lived there as well. We usually worked together and while I was relatively pragmatic, the other maid was extremely superstitious and constantly tried to convince me that every creak, or misplaced object, was caused by ghosts. I did not believe in the ghosts theory and tired to argue that the house was old and prone to creaking and that objects get misplaced all the time, but the other maid would have none of it.

The other maid and I were asked to clean out the sothern rooms of the farmhouse because the Master wanted to convert them into a variety store. It was at this time that I started to see unusal things happen, like curtains move when there was no breeze, electrical cords pull themselves from the wall, and doors open and close by themselves. In the main hall, drops of blood fell from the ceiling and pooled on the floor. No matter how many times the other maid and I cleaned up the blood, it always reappeared the next day. Most frustrating was the fact that the Master and Mistress of the house never experienced anything strange, nor saw the blood, and would dismiss our complaints as nonsense.

I was now convinced that the house was haunted afterall, but was still not all that creeped out until the drops of blood from the ceiling became bloody bootprints that appeared decending the stairs and entering the southern rooms. At one point I was cleaning something in the main hall and heard footfalls on the stairs. I turned and saw not the Master as I was expecting, but the bloody bootprints. I quickly tried to duck into one of the adjacent rooms, but the double glass doors either locked of their own accord or jammed. I quickly spun around so that my back was pressed up against the glass doors and the lights in the hall began flickering. The temperature in the room dropped dramatically and I could see my breath. I was frozen in terror as I watched the bloody bootprints slowly and ominously stomp towards me. I cowered and shut my eyes, but just before they reached me, the sound of the footfalls disappeared, the room temperature returned to normal, and the lights stopped flickering. The glass doors behind me swung open and I made a hasty exit from the main hall and ran into the other maid, who saw everything from the other side of the glass doors.

Not only did the other maid quit after that but the bloody bootprints following me around the house became a common occurance. While it did take me a while to get used to, I eventually figured out that if I made no attempt to run from the ghostly follower, or try to clean up the bloody mess, the ghost would soon leave and the bloody mess would eventually disappear on its own.

I was standing in the southern room at one point, brainstorming ideas for the variety store, when I was summoned by the Master. I went to his private study in the north end of the house and when I got there, he lectured me on how no women in his household should leave the premises without a male escort. I realized at this time that I had never so much as stepped out onto the porch in all my time of working there as a maid, let alone leave the property. I got angry and shouted "There is my escort!" I pointed to the bloody bootprints that followed me into the room and the Master finally sees them for the first time, but says nothing.

Almost immediately after the lecture, I began to see ghosts in and around the farmhouse. The first is a little boy in a blue coat and white shorts, playing with an orange ball, near the pond at the front of the house. One Sunday I am sitting with the Master and Mistress and their guests when I get up and go into the kitchen for something. When I return, there is an old man sitting in my seat. He looks exactly like the character Oscar Leroy from the show Corner Gas (baseball cap and all). I recognize him as a friend of the family in the dream and he starts telling me about how it is his birthday. I realize that the old man is a ghost and I exclaim outloud to the Master and Mistress that their friend is dead, but everyone in the room just looks at me like I am crazy. Some get angry because they think I am being disrespectful since they know that man I am talking about and that it is his birthday.

I beg the Master to call the family of their friend but they wil not. The ghost of the old man gets up and asks me to follow him outside into the front yard. I do so, and the family and their guests follow me to see what I am up to, though I suspect it is just to observe me because they think I have lost my mind. The ghost of the old man tells me about how he died peacefully in his sleep, and as a hearse drives by in the distance, he points to the completed variety store at the southern end of the house and to says "Never stop writing down your ideas." The ghost then fades away. I walk over to the pond (though it looks more like a muddy pit at this moment) and stare quietly into the murky water. The Master comes over to me and finally says that he will get someone to call the family of his friend, to confirm his condition, because no one else yet believes that the old man is dead.

The Mistress runs out of the house and proclaims that their friend is dead and that it was self-inflicted. While everyone reacts to the news of their friend's suicide, I walk away saying "He lied to me!" (about how the old man said he died). Later, the Master, Mistress and guests are sitting around talking about how strange it was that someone would want to kill themselves on their birthday, but no one seems particularily upset at the loss of thier friend. I am disturbed and upset at their apparent apathy.


The dream ends there.

The birthday-suicide thing is something that I had been ruminating about for a few days because I struggle with suicidal ideation as a result of clinical depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.

The dream starts off with me nine months pregnant with twins. I am lost and I have nothing to my name, and I wander aimlessly down a long stretch of road in the middle of nowhere. I walk for hours until I come across a little farm that seems vaguely farmiliar. I do not see any hydro lines or cars and it is soon aparent why: I am on a Mennonite farm. The Mennonite couple who answer the door are the same ones whom I remember from my youth: they owned a small store that they ran out of their house, close the the trailer park my parents and I went to every weekend in the summer. I have forgotten their names now though.

When the couple saw the state I was in, the husband rushed to hitch up the horses to the carriage and they took me to the nearest hospital, which was in a small town a few miles away. The showed great concern for me and even waited with me until I had been admitted. The Mennonite couple said they would come back the next day to check on me before they left. The hospital was a huge 5 story building that towered over everything else in the tiny town. It was strangley disproportioned compared to the area it was in, like it would be a hospital found in a busling metropolis, not a sleepy, country town. Despite its size, the hospital was unusually quiet and there seemed to be no one around.

A male nurse in green scrubs greeted the Mennonite couple plesantly but barely looked at me while he filled in the admission forms. The nurse still wouldn't look at me when he brought a gurney in for me to lay on and show the Mennonite couple out. As soon as the couple was gone the male nurse strode right past me and did not even acknowledge my presence from that point on. I was wisked away to another part of the hospital.

The female nurse pushing my gurney parked it in a hall outside of some rooms that had no one in them and I asked why I could not go into one of those rooms, but she ignored me. I was left alone in the hall and even though I could see all of the normal equipment that are in hospital halls, there was absolutely no one around. No nurses, no patients, no custodial staff: no one.

I layed on my gurney until I became restless and cold and got up to try and find someone. Just then three male doctors walked through some double doors at the end of the hall and came up to me. The one in the middle had a file that they were all looking at and discussing. I tried to get their attention, and though two of them glared at me for a second, none responded to my questions. When the three doctors were done reading the file, they finally addressed me, but said that, despite my condition, they had no rooms available for me and said that I would have to sleep outside in the grass.

I kind of stared at them dumbfounded and demanded to know why I had been admitted as a patient if they was no room - which I knew was a lie because all around me I could see rooms for patients that were completely empty, though ready for use. One of the doctors shook his head and said: "We have room for patients, just no room for you."

I broke down into bewildered tears as I was pushed to a pile of straw in a grassy spot by the hospital's main entrance and asked to get off the gurney. The female nurse threw a thin blanket over the straw and then turned around and went back into the hospital. I couldn't believe what was going on but I laid down on the pile of straw because I was exhausted and defeated. I could feel my babies kicking from the inside, as if they knew something was deeply wrong as well. I remember wishing that I was dead as night came, because it was so cold and the thin blanket did nothing to keep me warm. Only once or twice did a nurse come out to check on me, or offer me a sip of cold water.

When the sun began to rise it woke me up because it was right in my eyes. It was a bit foggy and everything was covered in a light frost. I was shivering violently and my lips were blue but I was much too weak to move and seriously thought I was going to die there. I suddenly felt some warm hands lift me up and I was tightly wrapped in a heavy blanket that smelled like barnyard animals. I opened my eyes and saw the Mennonite couple, who demanded to know right away why I was not in the hospital.

When they heard of my horrible treatment at the hospital, the Mennonite couple take me in their carriage back to the farm, insisting that I can give birth in the comfort of their home. I don't rememeber much else from the dream though I do know that I woke up before giving birth.