As some of you know (and will have read), I occasionally have pretty full on dreams, often featuring my friends.
So, here's a bit of a dream journal, about my dream last night... enjoy! (It's a bit long, but it reads fast!)
I Dream of Vertical Driveways (and rowing boats)
(Note: our family used to have a beautiful Huon Pine and Celery Top dinghy (now a family friend owns it, and Dad loves boats. Also note that I knit a lot, and that the place names are real, Google them if you so desire!)
It's stormy, windy and also sunny - only in Tasmania. Dad is teaching my brothers how to sail a rather small wooden tall ship into the harbour at Hobart while my husband and I look on.
They make it into the harbour, and then the scenario begins to repeat itself. It has become more dangerous, and there are rocks, smooth and sloping gently and decidedly into the rough water. The boys sail the ship dangerously close...
They make it, and the scenario repeats itself again. This time the boys sail the ship too close to the rocks, which are darker and angrier than before. I hear the squealing sound and see the edge of the ship scraping along the rock face. I scream out, "Dad! Dad! It's on the rock! It's too close!"
My father hears me, and a frenzy of movement on board ensues as the ship is eased off the rock. Again, it arrives safely in the harbour. I realise that my husband and I are now in the harbour too, in a small wooden dinghy which I recognise. Of course, it's my father's boat.
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Dad is busy, organising things on the ship, getting it ready to dock. I call out to him, "Dad, we'll row the dinghy back! Where does it need to go?" He is smiling as he calls out the answer, "To Geeveston - it's a long trip!" "We'll be okay! We'll meet you there so you can drive us home."
In my dream I realise that although my dad said Geeveston, I'm picturing Franklin. (Now I'm realising that in my dream I was picturing Huonville and Franklin as just down the coast, a bit past Kingston and Blackman's Bay, when in actuality it's much further).
My husband and I start to row, and I am careful to have good form so I don't strain my back. Soon we reach Franklin, and, realising that it's not Geeveston, we decided to stop for a break and buy some scones with jam and cream. In my dreams, Franklin is much bigger than it is in real life, and I decide to pick up some knitting I'd left at a friends place. I recognise the place and the person, not from real life, but from another dream. Her antisocial and mentally ill husband stays hidden in another room while we are there. We don't stay long.
After we leave her place, we decide we are too tired to continue rowing, and start looking for a place to store the boat so it won't get stolen. My husband is skeptical, "the people who we leave it with will most likely steal it" but I brush his fears aside. We come to a place on the edge of town, and are walking up the driveway when we are confronted by an angry, defeated woman sitting on her house's doorstep.
"You should go before he sees you!"
"Who?" I reply, curious, but she doesn't have time to answer before we hear a man raging at us.
"How dare you step on my property! You'll pay for this!"
"How dare you step on my property! You'll pay for this!"
I look up to see that this house is one of several similar ones which spread over the side of a steep hillside. The one I'm standing at is at the base of the hillside. The one from which the yelling man has emerged is located half way up the hillside, at the top of an extremely steep driveway.
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"We were looking for someone to look after our boat for us."
"Really! Just come up here and try to explain it!" His tone is threatening, but I decide to do as he said.
I start to climb the driveway. I have to hold onto the edges to stop myself from falling. Soon it's vertical, and I'm trying to pull myself up using just my arms. About half way up I realise that the man has gone inside. Just as I realise this, he emerges from his house, shotgun in hand. Without thinking, I allow myself to slide back down the driveway, listening with fright his threatening bellows and the sounds of the shotgun being loaded and cocked.
I run for the car (which wasn't there before), and realise with amusement and terror that it's exactly the same as his car, which is perched at the top of his driveway. I have the advantage though, as the keys are already in the car... but this advantage is lost when the car suddenly faces the wrong way, requiring a three-point turn. In a frenzy I leap in the car only to fall out the other side, but at least I managed to start the engine! I dash around the car again and leap in as another me moves over to the passenger seat. I hear the roar of the crazy man's car starting and think with horror of the speed the car will gain as it goes down that driveway.
Our car is now ripping out of the driveway, but instead of driving, I'm in the backseat and feeling vulnerable, scared that the mad man will shoot at the car and shatter the back windscreen. My husband is in the front passenger seat, and someone else is driving at a speed people usually only reach on video games. Putting on the brakes to corner the speed is still insanely fast, it makes me feel light headed. I look back, and the other car is nowhere in sight - perhaps we left too quickly? Perhaps the man was more about bluff than we thought?
Determined to put as much distance between us and him as possible, we continue to speed, other cars are blurs, and it's a miracle we don't crash. Finally, as we begin to realise we are safe, the speed of the car slows, and we're back at the water's edge, safe and happy to sit under a weeping willow and simply breathe.
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The dinghy floats demurely, occasionally bumping against the jetty, and we wait. Soon dad will be here and we'll load the dinghy onto the boat trailer and head home.
