This was a long dream last night, with several parts, I woke at 2:00 AM to write it down in part, but have a crushing headache, notes were scanty.
J***, the boys step father, has pulled up in his white truck to drop the boy off. I invite him in for a beer, he accepts, I tell him follow the boy inside, I'll just have to run to the store....I don't have any beer on hand, must go buy some.
And now I am returning on foot from someplace deep in Southeast Calgary, across the Deerfoot trail, I'm cutting through some sort of amusement or theme park, large green trees everywhere, old buildings filled with old machinery, my children are somewhere up ahead. It's a weekend. I keep running into construction workers, people I've worked with on odd jobs about the city, they seem friendly enough and remember me, I remember them only vaguely but they say hi and remember where we've worked together, they seem happy enough. The beer has been forgotten. Leaving the park, there are 3 bridges I must cross to get home, but I first must climb these steps up a large hill, on either side is a man-made terraced waterfall, filled with vintage watches, most of them are free for the taking, some are seperately priced. I stop to look at some, pulling them out of the water, the seperately priced ones are in plastic baggies nailed into the concrete. They are all interesting, unique, but no-name brands, not worth the repairing, I haven't time to look at them all, I remember having been here once before with D** and wonder how I've forgotten about it. I get to the top of the stairs, now in a long promenade of green trees, there is a group of husky 15 and 16 year olds coming up the stairs behind me, shouting taunts and insults, I think to ignore them, wonder why their doing this, then decide to wait for them, teach them a lesson. They reach the top of the stairs and I knock one of them down, they are surprised, hurt, offended, they weren't directing their comments at me, they were talking to a group of youths ahead of me, I am friends with their mother, (I look down the stairs now and see a 37 year old blonde, she waves and then turns shyly away), we feel bad about the misunderstanding.
I keep going, the children always just ahead of me, Calgary becomes again the real Calgary, not the dreamscape of bridges and trees, I am closer to home...