I'm in a house with my father not-my-father and son not-my-son. It's a smallish house, A-frame, and there's another house in the back lane on the same property.
People live in the back house, I don't know them, their house, sunny, Kootenay style with lots of hanging suncatchers and outdoor plants. The yard between the two houses is small, and filled with all sorts of plants, flowers, rubbish. Clothes hanging on hooks on vines, and going through the clothes I find shirts of my father and of my son (younger, perhaps 11 or 12).
My father-not-my-father is telling me to look out the back, he's having a driveway put in, and the back house is gone and I'm wondering where they went, the people that lived there, and why the landlord would consent to destroy a perfectly rentable house on his (?) property...
Looking up at the hill that's beside our house there's a hole in the ground, on the diagonal, with an old wooden coffin in it. "It's the ancestral burial ground of the people who lived in the back house" my father tells me, and then throws an old baby carrier up to cover the hole, the coffin was never buried, merely covered with trash.
I walk back through the yard, now that the back house is gone I discover that it's bigger than I expected, there's a hidden garden behind it...
And back in the yard I knew, sunny days, and I'm moving stuff and discovering unwashed dishes, old-granny style teacups and saucers, creamers filled with milk, everywhere, behind and around the outdoor furniture I'm finding trash, and I'm thinking this is very unlike my dad and these shirts of my son, why haven't I seen him, I understand he's my son but we should have met by now...
***Weird dream. I don't know who the other people were, only in the dream they were supposed to be my father and my son. They weren't, not at all, which accounts for the puzzlement and tone. Just fucking weird.***