basket machine

  • I was sitting on a long bench seat within a large array of them in a large hall, as would be in an auditorium, but with the space seeming more like a gymnasium, with lots of light from all sides except for the front (south), as if there were a stage there; lots of other SFS people were there, only some of whom I knew, and the seating was mostly full overall. I kept inching down (east) along the seat more and more as more people sat down. Everyone was conversing.
  • I was riding a bus or train northward, also with WU people, including alums, I think. Each seat had a table before it; all the seats faced forward. The guy ahead of me diagonally took a bottle of sriracha sauce (because food was served) and squeezed himself a sauce necklace (these terms sound incredibly dirty, but the circumstance wasn’t), seemingly to prove a point during a conversation about spicy food that I couldn’t really hear.
  • A set of math formulas I was looking at at a table in a room by a south exterior wall culminated in a red square button for a “steel operation,” i.e. a process of producing steel. Nearby, maybe mutated from this, was an 18th-century black wooden box/frame containing an automated apparatus for making small baskets constructed like barrels (8″-10″ height and diameter, plant pot shape). Part of the apparatus was a bunch of nails bundled together in a sheaf; this and other parts revolved in different modes; I maybe made a basket/drum with it.
  • There were wasps on the top shelf space of the dining room in NH’s inbuilt shelves; they were hard to see at first, but then I noticed more and more of them; a few were really big (~2″ long) and they ranged in size down to almost invisible. We wanted to move them outside; maybe when we started trying to move them, they flew into the air and a number of the tiny ones stung me. I was vexed and worried they’d get in my eyes, so I went outside into the backyard into a sunny area, which they wouldn’t like, to get rid of them. My mom stayed inside and herded them to the top of the east kitchen window and let them out by lowering the window and screen; all the while, my dad and someone else out front were enjoying the sound of the drum I’d made with the basket machine. There seemed to be other people or maybe Harriet in the backyard; there was deeper shadow from the trees, and different placement of trees, than IRL.
  • I was at a cabin, seemingly in Temple, with Biv people, on an early frosty clear morning. One of them mentioned how four faculty members from the Biv days of yore were staying at maybe Marienfeld, just like old times, and it was quite a nostalgic thing.
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