Here's one of mine from 5 August 2010:

Just had the most enchanting dream. I was reading in the bedroom when I became drowsing about 4p, so put my book aside, turned onto my side and got comfortable with the cats, Kipling and Trystan, on either side of me. I was lying on a bed in my dream when I realised a tall, lean, very attractive man was standing by my bed, which was in a larger room, with another bed lined up with it at the foot. Both beds were comfy, very large and full of comforters, etc. I was in some kind of building which belonged to Roger and I and was very old, made of stone with thick walls, filtered sunlight through vine-surrounded windows, and a cool, comforting aura.

The man (healer?), whom I intuitively knew was safe, had some kind of essential oil and some cards, reading cards perhaps; both were for healing or a reading of my energies, I think. I knew my sisters had brought him when they came "down" from Wyoming, but we were NOT in Colorado!:-) I drifted in and out of a languorous state of conscientious whilst he made some arcane movements with his hands and the cards. I do not recall any odour from the oil, so do not know if it was really oil or perhaps water of some sort.

At one point one of my sisters climbed up the far side of the second bed, then behind me, so she was on the opposite side from the man as I was on my side facing him. She gave me a few light, soothing caresses on my back, then left, after placing a beautiful, large sunflower on the end of the bed. When I arose, after the man was gone, I do not remember him leaving, I discovered the flower, but there were untold numbers of the tiniest red bugs, spiders maybe, crawling off of it and marching across and down the bed, in formation, much like small armies, all in ordered rows. Unlike my usual self, they didn't bother me, except that I did not want to let them go on like that, esp. on our bed, so I went looking for some kind of bug spray or something to get them off the bed.

I found myself in a dimly lit, stone-walled room with a set-in country wash basin with a set of cupboards above and below. I looked for something for the bugs under the sink to no avail. Finally found a large white towel which I ran some water over and, in a few minutes, would return to the bedroom, lay it down over the bugs and gather them up in it, to be removed, permanently. I don't think they were really that important (meaning-wise), just something to tidy up, so I don't think it is of any significance as to whether I actually smothered them, or just gathered them to take them outside and shake them off the cloth. (Which I don't remember doing, this is all surmised after wetting the cloth.)

What was really important, it feels, besides the man, was this was yet another room which we had not discovered in the manor or whatever it was where we lived. I am always thrilled at the thought of living somewhere with rooms yet to be found, filled with ancient and interesting things. This room had an old-fashioned, wood-framed screen door to the left of the sink, as one faced the sink. It was blocked and I remember thinking, we'll have to open that up. It looked out on a small, brick-paved patio with small wire tables and chairs with a greenish, dark patina of age sitting among plants, flowers and other green things which had pushed up between the bricks and which, along with trees, surrounded the very inviting, very private patio. The left side of the patio had a covered walkway fronting other rooms with French doors. It was very dim and intriguing with vines twining up and over the roof of the walkway.
As I turned from the door, to my left, to then turn again to my left to go out the doorway leading into the room, I almost lost my breath on discovering yet another treasure: there stood a gorgeous old high-boy with ornate outlines at the top with the front faced with brilliant cobalt blue glass inlay with also some green and yellow glass. In the centre, in large numerals was the number "317" I think. I remember thinking it was significant and I may have thought it was a former address of somewhere important, but can't really say. I was absolutely enchanted by it and so excited about finding it, and the room, that I called for Roger, to show him. I don't recall who it was, maybe one of my sisters, or maybe an employee, but someone told me he was busy cooking (for the guests) and I let it go at that. I had the impression we served luncheons or somesuch to guests, but no sense of it being an inn for overnighters. At, or near that point, I truly awoke and, as I sat down to chronicle this dream, my sisters rang me up! I shall let this percolate in my subconscious to see what elements of the dream may mean something, or if it was just a great, relaxing, deep sleep with some fun. It *feels* as though I have had a healing, but I do not want to make that claim just yet and I don't even know what it is supposed to have healed, if so. Perhaps time will tell, yeah or nay. Regardless, it was a wonderful dream which left me with a wonderful, relaxed feeling. Perhaps it has the germs for a new novel or, at the least, a story.

Afterthoughts: 317 may be St. Patrick's Day – my dad and I always called each other on that day. Or, numerologically, 3+1=4+7=11=1+1=2, so I'll have to check my references to see what that signifies. Or, maybe it's just a combination of two of my favourite numbers!:-)