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Morning of November 17, 1968. Sunday.



In my dream, I am mostly wandering around in a composite location that combines features of West Elementary school in Florida and the Rose Street apartments in Wisconsin.

My school’s hallways have areas that are much like the doorways with the transoms from Rose Street (which did have wooden doors into the next room). These “doorways” are oriented mostly east and west and only go from the same general area of the hall into the next area of the hall but there are no actual doors - just the transom area and the implied “doorway” a short distance out from each implied division of the hallway. There is a slowly dawning realization that hidden treasures are on the ledge of each transom, mostly out of sight when viewed while walking (though realistically, some would be visible when farther away). These treasures include small jewelry boxes full of valuable gems and such, smaller books which include older science-fiction digest magazines from the 1950s and possibly even the newest comic books, as well as American and Canadian coins.

Later, the idea and realization changes, even though I had apparently kept some of these treasures (and had hidden them from others). The items which I had not gotten to yet somehow turn out later to be cleaning items that the janitor had put there, such as a bottle of window cleaner and just a cleaning cloth or rag and such. There is also a distorted scene where I actually seem to be back in sister Marilyn’s apartment on Rose Street, yet also a very large “closet” or school maintenance room at the same time. I am not sure if this is some sort of temporary series of events regarding the cleaning supplies, or if the transom “treasures” themselves were only temporary. This is similar in mood to other dreams of finding treasures in square column-like areas under floor tiles in my Cubitis home, finding secret areas under roof shingles, and finding buttons or small levers that open previously hidden doors into secret rooms.

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The composite settings specific to my Rose Street apartment (as well as my sister’s) and West Elementary was mostly limited to dreams from around 1967 to 1968 when I guess I was still adjusting to the move from Wisconsin to Florida.)

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Morning of November 15, 1968. Friday.



The location seems to be a very dense cypress swamp in Florida. The cypress trees are seemingly gigantic; as big as skyscrapers (though there is no hint of any people or man-made features in the region). It is beautiful. It is also eerie but without any sense of a threat. Although it is of a full view and three-dimensional, I do not seem fully in my dream body (though I am not certain if I am implied to be incorporeal).

I watch what seems to be an enormous eagle, mostly in silhouette, flying from right to left. It is the most vivid when I view it through a wide clearing between two dense areas of impossibly tall cypress trees. It does not seem to be carrying any prey. Its wings are moving but almost as if in slow motion. I feel as if it is a roc (even though a roc is mythological). There is a sense of peace, love, and timelessness. The imagery is mostly in shades of gray (which is very rare in my dreams). The emotional state is also unusual, as other dreams I had during this time included the threat of buzzards, yet this bird seems much bigger, possibly as big as a jumbo jet.

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This dream was my last dream of the morning and is a unique and very enjoyable return flight waking transition.

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My dream seems to have three influences:

• The swampy Fort Ogden area in Florida where I lived when I was very young
• The Pogo Possum comic strip
• A deck of educational cards that, when flicked through, display an animation of wild animal silhouettes with a bird silhouette flying above them

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In my earliest dream journal entry on notebook paper (at age seven) I had referred to this bird as an “elephant bird” (though I also referred to it as a “roc”), but I later learned that the extinct elephant bird was flightless (and of Madagascar) and certainly not like the bird in this dream.

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This entry was last checked and clarified on Saturday, 31 December 2016. A new photographic image (based on an original sketch) has been added.

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Morning of November 11, 1968. Monday.



This became recurring for some time. I am in class and there is talk of an approaching threat. It turns out to be a large dimetrodon (a prehistoric fin-backed reptile-like creature). This was recurring over several weeks. In some scenarios, I saved a female classmate, Linda, sometimes from a falling wall. In one later version of the dream, the single fin splits into two “wings” and I get the impression that it will start to fly, perhaps taking Linda or another classmate (or even a teacher) with it. I found this to be somewhat “too fanciful” an idea even as a child, which I now look back on and reflect upon with amusement.

Night of November 7, 1968. Thursday.



Another dream I had in early childhood is one about the “prehistoric elephant”. It is possible that I originally got the idea from something I had read in a newspaper (of a larger city) or heard somewhere (although, upon newer research, it is probably more likely another case of postcognition or some sort of remote viewing - as I did not really have access to such things at that time), but it still was somewhat precognitive in that I got a book later on relating to part of the theme: “Lassie: Adventures in Alaska” by George S. Elrick (Link here).

My dream featured a shaking side-to-side scene (implied “earthquake”, but extremely common in my childhood perception, from day to day, as well as with the side-to-side “earthquakes” of hypnagogic vision, which I always found interesting, almost comforting). A large, tall, broken-off iceberg floats to a New York harbor near Manhattan (I see the Statue of Liberty in one scene), somehow from Alaska (which would be impossible in real life of course, as they are on opposite sides of the continent - but since when are dreams always geographically realistic?). The iceberg slowly melts…and a living mammoth emerges and goes around New York, knocking into buildings and alarming people (this was also before I was scared, the second time at least, by a trained elephant at a store’s parking lot in real life). I go higher in one skyscraper and look down. Far below, I see the mammoth charging at the building I am in and there are mild vibrations. Nothing that frightening unfolds; it is almost like a sort of movie or already-completed documentary I am seemingly viewing at times in a sort of “second-hand” way.

Curiously, of all the Big Little Books that were published, a different copy of this is now in our present home (an interesting coincidence) - the only Big Little Book we had found anywhere at that time. When I was little, this title was one of a very large number given to me for Christmas by an older sister who worked at a store and got them cheaper (in fact, almost every Big Little Book that was published at that time - it came in a very large package).

By pure chance, years later, my older sister’s third husband’s name happened to be Corey (the same as in this book).

Morning of November 2, 1978. Thursday.



For some reason, cicadas often take on a nightmarish essence for me, especially in dreams. In this particular dream my family is living back in Cubitis except it seems that my brother Earl is either living with us or visiting for a time.

The cicadas in my dream are apparently dangerous and possibly venomous. A few get into the house and I try to go to different rooms to avoid them but one always appears, usually on the ceiling (sometimes higher on the wall), though there is a fictional feature of wooden beams going across the living room just under the ceiling, oriented north to south. The cicadas, which are bigger than in reality, sometimes move behind a beam and out of sight as possibly in an attempt to “ambush” someone. There are times when I am concerned that someone has left the hallway door open (which was rarely used for a time in real life) but since several are already in the house, my focus seems misdirected.

I am not actually hurt at any time, but there is a very strong sense of fear. It is curious that I do not become lucid at any point. It is not really like an infestation as there are probably only about six or seven in the house at any particular time.

Night of October 30, 1968. Wednesday.



I am in the far back of a jeep (possibly being driven by the actor Marshall Thompson), right near the edge of the back (but usually not so close as to worry about falling out though I am somewhat wary of this possibility in one version of my dream), and Erin Moran in her Jenny persona from “Daktari” is also seemingly with me at times, and there are usually a few more people. However, she sometimes seems more like a composite of Brenda W and the “mystery girl” (confirmed wife-to-be) at times. When looking to the back, she is mostly always on my left. We are riding over a mostly featureless area (like an open plain), possibly in Africa, but I also sometimes get the impression that I am active in my school’s supposed field trip and a rhino possibly escaped from somewhere - though this focus seems to make my dream a bit ambiguous and undefined in location. There are different versions of this dream, as it was recurring over a time period of about two weeks or so.

Mostly, the jeep narrowly avoids being hit in the back by the charging rhinoceros, though it does get bumped in the back in minor inconsequential incidents in some versions. I am not directly threatened at any point but very concerned at times. It seems the rhino always manages to at least catch up to the jeep but not match its speed for very long. Sometimes it seems that somehow only the back of the jeep exists along with the floating “legless” (but undulating) rhino body in an otherwise completely featureless landscape with a lot of mist all around.

It is possible that I saw this rhino-charging scene on television (or at least something similar) prior to my dream, but it is not certain, as I did not record any direct associations as such and do not presently recall the particular scene.

Morning of October 29, 1978. Sunday.



I am seemingly in outer space as if I live on an asteroid yet it also seems somewhat movie-like in an impersonal sense. I note that there is at least one very large green octopus-like creature living on the biggest asteroid (and there are possibly many more). I am uncertain of how much of a threat this creature is. I try to recall how long I had been living on the asteroid. I know there may be other people living here but am not sure how many. I get the impression that the octopus is jellylike. It lives in a sponge-like cluster of caves - each with several entrances. I feel slightly ungrounded with only a vague sense of weightlessness.

Some of this seems to have been partly influenced by an issue of “Casper Space Ship” from 1972.

As a dream setting, living or being on an asteroid or space station has been fairly uncommon throughout my life. Two things come to mind relative to interpretation, especially relative to timing. I believe on one level that this dream may represent my perspective of moving from my childhood home from Florida to Wisconsin, where I still felt a bit “ungrounded” at this time and also was not yet living on my own. It seems almost “normal” (in the dream universe that is) that an octopus, which I have finally resolved to represent the human neuron in many cases, is on an asteroid in outer space, which adds up to conscious focus on the outer limits of conscious awareness. In fact, an asteroid (relative to how one appears in this dream) visually represents the human brain (as in the same manner as my dream “The Sacred Rock of Thought” where the sponge-like boulder represented my full brain-shaped conscious essence granting wishes in the dream). As such, each asteroid is likely meant as another consciousness (separate from my own) - other dreamers in orbit of Earth, the Blue Pearl, the Source. This even correlates with my “Meteor Shower” dream (1971) where each equidistant (like the arrangement of desks in a classroom) glowing meteorite on the ground represented the brain or essence of a classmate - a fairly obvious “stand-in” symbol which visually replaces what you would otherwise see in real life in a particular location at a particular time.

Night of October 24, 1968. Thursday.



Newly researched and enhanced entry updated on August 31, 2014. Sunday.

This was one of my favorite childhood dreams, and I became fully lucid by the end of my dream. I was firstly in the living room of my Cubitis home very late at night, probably around midnight. There was a very unusual storm occurring with a lot of thunder and lightning. Over time, I decided to go into my own room, but only opened the door enough to see a very small ghost gliding across the floor. As one of my original titles for this was “The Pillowcase Ghost”, you can imagine what it looked like. There were hardly any features other than the white “pillowcase” with vertically oval eyes and a mouth. He had no legs and only a suggestion of hands to drag his chain. He had a very young voice, like a young boy, as he was “booooooing” (more like moaning and dragging out the word “boo” for some time), and in fact, I could actually see the letters moving in the air above his head in a long, wavy sequence. I was not scared at all. I found it rather fascinating and bordering on pure entertainment. He was dragging a small chain, which looked a little like an animated charcoal drawing. The lightning I watch for a time through mostly the east windows of my bedroom also seems somewhat animated (in an implied letter “Z” sort of way), and is fairly thick and yellowish. I watch the little ghost for a fairly long time. However, he eventually notices me and seems to vanish, as if he had been only practicing his ghostliness and did not want anyone to see what he was doing.

I look around for him and he seems to be under the couch watching me. I imagine that we are playing some sort of game, but I wonder what I should do. For a short time, I am wondering if he actually took the pillowcase from one of my pillows and was now wearing it.

I go into the entrance to the kitchenette and crouch down near a chair (one from real life, with metal legs, in the same position as from last seen in reality). Eventually, the small ghost is in the living room, moving around and gliding very slowly across the floor, almost reminding me of a snail. He does not seem to be aware of me at that point. All in all, my dream is extremely vivid, yet with a cartoon-like atmosphere (but still with full life-like depth perception).

I find myself holding a “Spooky (the Tuff Little Ghost)” comic book (the one in the image, issue number eleven with a cover date of July 1957). I jump out from behind the chair (although technically I was not hidden, as the chair’s legs vertically blocked only a small part of me), and I let out a very loud, staccato “Boo!” At the same time, Spooky flies out of the comic book, growing bigger in flight, until he is my size, as I am holding it open, raising his arms and also shouting “Boo!”

The other poor little ghost’s eyes widen as he cringes dramatically (and diagonally in the opposite direction) in seeming terror and he slides swiftly across the floor backwards, to the other side of the room (he cannot seem to fly at all). He no longer appears in my dream, and Spooky is also gone from the scene (having returned to the comic book, I assume). Eventually, I wake up, and have a false awakening of retrieving my pillow case from under the couch.

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A short time after this, my mother (without knowing about my dream) gave me a glow-in-the-dark plastic ghost figure similar to the one in my dream but wearing a clock necklace (most dreams have at least one precognitive layer or association, but not always as obvious).

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The main influence was “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown”, which aired earlier that evening. The Spooky comic book cover (that was apparently printed eleven years earlier as well as being issue number eleven) set the climax and resolution into play with a clever scenario, especially of a ghost coming out of the cover of a comic - that comic book cover in reality also showing the ghost coming out of the cover of a book! (and it was from behind a kitchen chair rather than an arm chair which would have hidden me fully - this seems one of several important facets of my dream). The “ghost” was possibly a representation of a challenge in easily “defeating” the Charlie Brown mentality - almost in the manner of “tough real ghost” vs. “weak and fake ghost Charlie Brown”. This seems important because in my dream, it was almost as if I was in full control of the Spooky presence regardless of how short the event. The layers of this dream still seem quite intriguing even as an adult. The later versions of this dream did not have as much impact as the first semi-lucid version.

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This dream had one of the most intriguing and marvelous dream signs I have ever seen. A glowing white “pillowcase ghost” (both a moon symbol and a very obvious dream sign - what could be more obvious a dream sign than a pillow?) serves as the induction and soon becomes the main feature of my dream. Even though Spooky is also technically a moon symbol (“downgraded” consciousness within the nighttime dream state) as are most ghosts, he wears a derby and is thus a “covered moon” in this case, and emerges from the comic book to “send my dream’s moon away” as the waking precursor.

Morning of October 15, 1978. Sunday.



My dream starts out very nicely. I am standing on the deck of a new small yacht in the early evening with the cheerful “mystery girl” (lifelong precognitive wife archetype). It is semi-dark and we are not that far from shore. We seem to be drinking cocktails. I begin to realize it is a dream and it becomes more and more vivid. We seem to be the only people around. I start thinking about how this would be a fine and private place for romance

Over time, however, as we begin to make love, the boat somehow gets smaller and smaller (the girl eventually vanishes somehow), the scenario quite contrary to my wishes, until it is just a board floating on the water, more like a half-sunken canoe, I suppose. I start focusing and chanting “perfecto, perfecto” and the board moves faster through the water (as if it had a motor attached in back) as I remain on my stomach (hands and arms sometimes splashing in the water) hoping everything will work out in an attempt to reach the opposite shore and meanwhile “restore” the seeming intent of how my dream started, but not much else happens as I end up feeling tired and frustrated. For some reason, I feel embarrassment even though no one is around to see my failure at that point - and I also still fully know I am dreaming as I eventually wake. I keep trying, but it remains a board in the water and almost stops now and then, annoying me even more with a slight wariness it could sink. At one point, I get the impression that the Jolly Green Giant is standing on the shore opposite to where I am headed. He does not seem to be threatening in any way, though he is probably amused at my endeavors, I think and he may actually rescue me if need be (though this does not occur).

There was another (semi-lucid) part prior to all this, but no longer clear. It involved exploring a large college-like building and trying to go out from the right exit. One part is an area to go down steps and be below ground level, but then right back up again to the outside door on the other side of the mostly featureless “hall”. It may be a distortion of one of the schools I went to, possibly in La Crosse (though it was also precognitive to the entrance at Northern Engraving where I worked much later without having been there before). There seems to be several “resets” or repeats.

Morning of October 14, 1968. Monday.



A young boy (who is primarily seen in-dream as Clint Howard as he appears on the television series “Gentle Ben”) is hiding from his family and from teachers, and people are continuously looking for him, but no one ever finds him. He has not done anything wrong; he just wants to live his own way and apparently does not like going to public school. He had been living in a special underwater bunker that one can only get to by being ‘swallowed’ by a mechanical hippopotamus head in a lake. I study the blueprints for his setup at one point as it seems that he somehow built it on his own. I clearly see the head from the side and how a person goes downward through a somewhat diagonal tunnel (past a chimney-like vertical area) into the larger bunker.

This is the original childhood dream journal title. I had also drawn images on notebook paper that came in various colors, mostly noticing the greater distance between the mechanical hippopotamus mouth entrance and how the various parts worked, including something related to rocks rolling into position - the hippopotamus head and front part of the body also working somewhat like a public mailbox concept. What is quite interesting is that part of my dream caused me to think of a game very much like “Hungry Hungry Hippos” which supposedly did not exist physically until 1978, about ten years after this dream (although the hippopotamus head and front part of the body are fairly “realistic” in contrast to the game). However, an online source states that the idea for the game was published in 1967, though I do not know if I had access to that information at the time.

What I can add here is that the boy at times also seemed to be a composite character, a combination of myself (yet not really “me” as I mostly saw the scenario as if disembodied) and about seventy-five percent Clint Howard as he appeared at the time. A “Gentle Ben” episode that had aired on television the night before was called “The Wall That Mark and Tom Built”, with the description “Mark has a falling out with his father; Mark takes a job as the guide for a fisherman”. The episode of “Lassie” on that same night was part one of “The Holocaust”, which was summarized as “A fire rages on a Western mountain range and, despite the efforts of helicopter crews, firefighters, and Lassie, Ranger Corey Stuart is trapped in the inferno. When a rescue team finally reaches Corey, he is seriously injured.” Looking at my dream, there were related concepts - the boy lived much on fish as well as there being the idea of being safe from grass fires and arsonists.

Regarding real-life associations, I never had a “falling out” with my father, but it is possible that I felt uncomfortable with certain events at school. In real life, an older classmate asked me if I was related to Clint Howard. This was rather ridiculous in my opinion as we were not even of the same racial background. The only similarity - and it seems to relate to the eyes - is possibly the somewhat Mongolian-like appearance (attributed to Native American features, though many people in the south often called me derisive Asian-based names as a boy) but I really do not think Clint Howard has any significant features that resemble mine.

Morning of October 13, 1978. Friday.



The location in this dream is not fully determinable although it is likely Wisconsin because of the land features. All I know is that it is a somewhat isolated area with a higher hill or rise on one side (seemingly east) where a road or highway cuts into possibly the foot of a mountain (that is, the embankment that is exposing the strata where the spaceship protrudes slightly seems partially flat on top but may reach more into the implied foot of the mountain more to the east). I am seemingly not directly in my dream even though my view is moving about in a three-dimensional perspective. Instead, the focus is on several businessmen in suits and around the same age (probably late thirties).

My dream unfolds in mostly only showing the discovery of an apparent extraterrestrial spaceship that had crashed or landed on Earth many years ago, possibly even before there were humans. Oddly, the different geological layers and features seem to be linked to the spaceship somehow. This is not logical, of course, because it is set up almost to imply that the spaceship slowly phased into its landing area over many centuries so that it became “entombed” or even fossilized over time, so that the spaceship is embedded in geologically different strata, almost in a way that would imply that different parts of the spacecraft existed at different times (after crashing) even though it is the one object.

I fade in and out of my dream over seemingly at least half an hour, but this is mostly all there is to it. There are a couple false awakenings related to writing my dream down, but no aliens appear or are implied as possibly extant at any point. In fact, my dream’s last “reset” at one point is almost to imply it could be connected to a nearby restaurant for the tourism industry and is perhaps faked somehow or at least advertised in a misleading way.

There is also something about “all” television stations going off the air related to more of the spacecraft being uncovered relative to erosion - and some sort of unclear reference about people blaming the restaurant for their televisions not picking up channels correctly. I get an impressions of it being related to Chicago somehow. Doing extensive research and relevant updates on many of my older entries (even more inclusive with online dream details that I formerly saw as more insignificant), I had to smile at this one. Although there is no documentation of having been aware of it (I would have likely made the reference), there was actually a power failure the night before at a relay substation in Chicago, affecting all television stations in Wisconsin in periods from ten to forty-five minutes.

This dream was also seemingly influenced by residual memory of “Five Million Years to Earth” (original title: “Quatermass and the Pit”) from 1967.

Morning of October 13, 1968. Sunday.



I am in school with a special sort of book that has Matchbox Cars inside it. In one dream journal entry, my earliest record of this scene, I originally called this “The Small, Flat Car”. The actual case seems to be that I can take out and put back in real Matchbox Cars in this special book (based on the photos becoming “wells” within the book - recurring, and a long-term idea in childhood dreams). There is one version where I seem to be sitting in the back of the class for what seems like a very long time, and am somewhat concerned about a car being partially flat yet trying to fit it between the pages so that the teacher does not notice that I have my toys in school. It did not work most of the time, though I still was not noticed, seemingly from sitting so far back in the classroom.

Morning of October 11, 1968. Friday.



Summary of meaning: In subliminal anticipation of the need to get up for school, my mind renders my mother (as parallel symbolism with my own inevitable emergent consciousness precursor) as a prehistoric amphibious creature and, with the aid of four older males, to be held on an island by building a shed (liminal space) around her. When she wakes, the shed explodes outwardly, as I am leaving the island (dream exit symbolism).

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A team of four unknown men, dressed as if on a safari (recurring dream character mode), probably in their thirties, seemingly with my help (even though I am only seven years old), trap an Eryops that had fallen asleep on a deserted isolated island (possibly near Florida or within the state of Florida in a very large lake as I do notice some palmettos) by somehow building a wooden shed around it while it is sleeping, yet the hammering apparently does not disturb its sleep at any point which is of course illogical. There is a very vague consideration that it may dig its way out as it is somewhat toad-like and toads do dig. However, when it eventually wakes up as we are preparing to leave the island, it is easily able to smash through with only a couple movements of its body and tail. I see boards flying out from the outer walls of the small building and feel a sense of awe and imminent danger. I watch the men leaving quickly in a rowboat (though I am not yet in it, though I seemingly soon teleport to it) as the creature is escaping but is not a direct threat as it remains where it is. It is facing the shore but facing to the right in my viewpoint. There is a sense of awe and unpleasant surprise but I have never classified this as a nightmare as I seem to only be observing this last scene without being directly present, becoming incorporeal at the waking point. (It was fairly common in my childhood dreams to become incorporeal in the final moments in eluding a possible threat, and as such, actual nightmares have been extremely rare throughout my life.)

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• This event of the prehistoric creature waking up as I am waking up (and it was my last dream of the morning prior to getting up) primarily renders the event as a very obvious waking metaphor, about as obvious as a basic dream meaning can be. Subliminally trying to prevent myself from waking (by preventing the creature from waking and escaping) did not work in this case, as biology is stronger than subliminal conscious will.
• Last update on Sunday, 30 October 2016. I had not considered that the shed in this dream might be associated with a doghouse. I learned that I had read a Marmaduke panel on October 6, 1968 which featured the dog “digging a storm cellar” under his doghouse. Additionally, building a shed around the sleeping creature seems a possible analogy to building a doghouse in hopes to tame a beast. A year previously, when I lived at 611 North Monroe Street, I had been yelled at by an unknown man who told me to stay away from his puppy (who was always resting in his doghouse when I visited him near my own open yard). This upset me (especially as I had never seen him before even though he lived in the apartments on the other side of our yard).

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Morning of September 28, 1968. Saturday.



I am sent to a warehouse-like area during school hours (even though I sense it is a Saturday - as it indeed is in real life) west of the school (West Elementary) and across the street to get a couple of textbooks, I think for other students (and perhaps one for myself). It is fairly dark inside.

A large “dogerpillar” crawls slowly near me from another part of the warehouse as a mist seems to rise up from the floor. There are shades of cyan, purple, white, and orange, and, terrified it will reach me, I stand up on a large crate just barely out of its reach as It is unable to lift itself, and can only crawl horizontally, which is an in-dream “relief” to me. It is at least a foot high or more and about five feet long. It starts making a strange, short mournful whining sound and I start to try to imitate the sound so that the creature will think I am one of its young (or one of its kind at least) and move on elsewhere. I continue to stand on the box making the sound in a somewhat worried state. Originally I had written “After awhile, I think that the creature may end up thinking that I am its offspring and may want something from me or to properly feed me! It seems there may not be a real way out.”

I am less afraid near the end (but still have an odd in-dream “faux end of the world” nervousness), but am concerned about missing reading class, and am wondering why they did not keep such a weird creature locked up. There is sort of a concern that I may never get out, but I slowly wake. (Oddly, there is no stronger thought of attempting to run away, even though the creature is very slow in its movements.)

Upon waking, I had found out (from my mother) that I was making a similar sound (vaguely like “vumpadump”) for several minutes before waking from the very vivid dream. (I have heard from some people that a person is unable to make sounds or speak in syllables when dreaming, but like almost everything else I have heard about dreams - it personally turned out to be wrong.) It is possible that the creature was partly based on the one from “The Monster That Challenged the World”, which I saw on Rose Street when about age five.

The very first dream journal title of this was “The Thing in the Room”. Someone who saw it (David K) said the title should be changed to “The Thing in the Attic”, which was pointless, as it was not an attic, so I later changed it to “The Thing in the Warehouse”. Because of what it looked like (a giant caterpillar with a weird dog-like head), the final title was “The Dogerpillar”.

This was not the first version of this dream. See this link: http://blue-opossum.tumblr.com/post/...ditional-notes

Morning of September 17, 1978. Sunday.

Dream #: 4,290-02. Reading time: 55 sec.



It seems to be late at night or very early in the morning before sunrise. I see the front of my Cubitis home (though I am living in La Crosse at the time in real life) from near the highway. My father is near the southwest corner of the house. After a short time, I see a navy jet (possibly an A-5 Vigilante, though only about half the size or smaller) has somehow stopped in midair so it appears “frozen” at about a forty-five degree (diagonal) angle about eight feet from the ground, close to where my father is standing, though to his left by a few feet. The unfamiliar male pilot starts talking to my father, and they cheerfully converse. The jet hanging in midair does not cause incredulity, but there is a vague, indirect thought of whether there is something wrong about the scene. There is a vague wariness about the jet dropping a bomb, but not in our immediate vicinity. Overall, the scene maintains a positive essence. I get the impression the pilot is asking my father for directions (as people sometimes do from a car) so he may continue his mission. I do not consider how it is going to move from its compromising position near the ground. (I wake while it is still motionless though I get the impression it will return to its usual flight path.)

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