I'm with a big group of people, and we're creating a huge mural of Ashland on huge tall walls on three sides of a room (or outside?). People are making Tolman Creek Road. They paint it on the far left corner. It's a road that goes up, dips, and then levels off in the distance in the mountains. (I hear someone explain this to me, and then I watch people paint it.) There is snow along the sides of it. I see that there is also a row of booths set up to represent Ashland. There's one booth that I had set up earlier. It is a little scene with lots of scary dolls. I used some of my stuffed animals and dolls, most with scary grimacing looks on their faces. I see two black Raggedy Annes, really big, sitting on chairs. One has a wide-eyed snarling look. The booth was my assignment for a booth corresponding to the Ashland mural. I am now in John's house on 3rd St. and it is early morning. I am in my downstairs bedroom, and I hear voices in the living room. I peek out there and see Megan sitting at the dining room table talking to someone. The phone rings. It's for me (Megan answered it), but Megan thinks I'm asleep, so she's about to take a message when I stick my head out. She sees me and gives me the phone. It's Mom. She's getting her hair done but wanted to check in with me. "Have you seen the snow outside? Go look! It's the first snow," she says. I can almost see it through the window shades. A pure white glow. I walk outside as I talk to Mom on the cordless phone. But now there's no snow. Instead I see that the street is full of stuff. Everyone in the neighborhood is having a yard sale and tons of junk is piled out in the street. I see that this is the Ashland mural/booths that just got unassembled. Now the booths have been taken apart, and the contents are being sold. I realize that my doll booth/exhibit was across the street in someone else's yard, so I need to go get my stuff before it is sold. Meanwhile, the things around me are really cool, and I see many things I want to buy. There are beautiful dresses, nice shirts, crafts and a shelf of soft handmade mittens. For some reason I am carrying a number of bags, and it makes me feel very bogged down. I go over to the doll area and see that there are only a few of my things still left. I guess the woman tossed the rest since it was in her yard. The remaining stuffed animals, etc. are under a coffee table on the side of the street. I start to salvage what I want to keep. I grab my giraffe stuffed animal (the one that spastically moves its neck around to a lullaby). I see there's a black doll left, and fortunately it's the one without the scary face. I then see my butterfly cloth bag, and it's stuffed with something. I unzip it and start rummaging through the contents. I pull out a really heavy small picture frame; it's just a block of glass with a photo in the center. It fits in the palm of my hand. I look closer and see that it's a picture of me, Phoebe, Sierra and Britt standing in a row with our arms around each other when we were little. As I look at the photo, Sierra and Britt move, walking toward me. I put that picture in the bag of stuff I'm going to save, thinking how heavy it will be for me to carry. I pull out another very similar photo in a heavy glass holder. It's Django (as a young boy), Erik Wallbank, Toni Dileo and Scott Rogers. They all look different, as if it's an old photo, but I can still recognize them. I see some other stuff of mine in the bag.
NEXT, I'm in a bedroom. I read a letter I got in the mail from an ex-football player's wife. Then for some reason I am very turned on. I'm sitting on a big bed. There's a smooth round beam at the foot of the bed as part of the frame. I straddle it, sliding back and forth. It feels really good. I climax.
NEXT, I'm in a store looking at the postcard rack. I see Kimberly Patton behind the counter. She owns the store. The postcards are great. Many are black & white with colored images on top. They are Hindu or East-Asian in some way. Many postcards have cows on them. I think to myself how perfect this is, as if I have some connection to cows or a cow collection.
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