Hello. Last night I dreamt, among other things, that:
• I was riding down a really sloped curvy road sort of like an alpine slide and that each hummock surrounded by a road curve or further out and of equal radius to the nearby ones was a “neighborhood” in some sense, even though it was clearly just a hummock about 6′ wide.
• I and a group of other people, possibly mostly WXC people, had volunteered to spend a week in individual hermetically sealed chambers which were clear plastic rounded-cornered rectangular things about 4’x5′ in plan and tall enough to stand up in and had a seat. Added into the chamber by the scientists or whoever it was when I went in were 14 plastic hemispherical shells about 1′ in diameter. Half of them went on the ceiling, with their openings pointing down, and the other half on the floor with their openings pointing up. I took the floor ones to be storage and pondered that maybe one of them was supposed to be a chamberpot. (It didn’t occur to me how utterly foul a situation this would immediately become if that were the case.) There appeared to be a water line in. Later on that day I was outside of the chamber again for some reason and learned that everyone who spent the week in a chamber would win a free whole new kitchen. Hot dog! There were also some things happened in an adjacent library area and a cafeteria area beyond.
• I was riding with my parents to Maine, I guess, and they wanted me to see what new thing I noticed going east on 137. There were a couple of new little modern-looking buildings (on reflection it was much more built-up than IRL) but the thing they were talking about was a low pitched-roof building (white with 8:12 aluminum roof) built straight over the road that the road just proceeded through the interior of, beginning and ending with large garage doors. We stopped in because there was a bunch of Hancock people we knew hanging around. I guess the building was a sort of auto body. Coming back, rather than being a highway, 137 was a dirt road with lanes split in one area and it was sort of in a ditchlike direction from where it actually lies, and was sort of muddy and ditch-looking, overhung by trees and other vegetation. This is a thing that has recurred in my dreams many times, for some reason, except for the split-lane part. When we got home, the ash leaves had turned gold (it was late summer) which stood out against the dark gray sky.