I was sleeping in the rear suite at 520, what Floyd and I have been working on, and woke up to find the shed was moving down the alley by itself. I soon realized that the wind likely couldn’t do that, so it had to be pulled by a truck. I rushed to get mostly dressed but couldn’t find socks or boots. I put on my slippers – they wouldn’t go on right away, sticking to my feet without socks – tried to search for a light switch to see what I was doing. There were too many switches, and they were confusing. Finally I got some lights to work. I went outside and realized that my van was not there. I found Old Yellow, Mom’s 1978 Chevy half-ton truck but didn’t have keys. I found the tracks in the snow to my shed and followed them out to the street where they disappeared into other tracks. I thought I would go north as that is likely where my shed would be. I called 911 on my phone, but the dispatcher didn’t know what she was doing and hesitated a lot. I was put on hold, or she just didn’t answer. I cussed into the phone. I realized that the contents of the shed were all my things I’d been saving for years – keepsakes and machines and other things. Then I woke up.
I just woke up from this dream. Old Yellow hasn’t existed for years, perhaps even decades now. The light switches in the suite are actually kind of confusing. I don’t actually live there. The shed isn’t next to the alley as in my dream – it is in the middle of the property. There is nothing really in that shed except old wood Floyd and I have been saving. And I always know where my socks are.
Old Yellow looked something like this. Mom bought it in 1978 in Brandon, MB, from a young guy who needed the money and sold it in the early 1990s for $900 or $1000.