Lelia
This night there were three large sprawling dreams of good coherent quality. Naturally, trying to bring back theree at a time there was a sacrifice in detail. The order of their occurrence is unclear. I do not recall ever meeting Poke Runyon (Magician / Writer / Director) but I well may have, as several dreams include his name without a "?" mark.
Lelia: I was at home, not my waking home, but a fairly sizeable place. I was visited by Lelia and a friend of hers, and we talked at length about various things. The friend spent some time in the conversation and some time sitting and reading. We were outside for a little while and Lelia sat on the edge of the porch with a small book. Later, inside, we were joined by Poke Runyon. It was getting late, about 10:00 (am? pm?) and Lelia suddenly realized the time and she and her friend hurried off. Poke was to hang around for a while. It was here that I remembered the writing machine, to see which was the only reason Poke would be here in waking life, and was going to suggest a demonstration. End.
Adventure Game
This dream was a living version of a computer text adventure game. Instead of responding to the printed text, and using a lot of imagination about the scenery, I was actually in the game. There were various characters with surprising traits to learn about, and magical things to find and loose, just like in the games, but this was much faster paced and much more rich. It was also outdoors in bright light rather than in some dank cave. At one point I found a magic place where I became several sizes larger and more powerful, but at about the same time I was robbed of all my gear by someone I did not see. I believe I was getting some prompting from a woman as I went along. Unfortunately, this dream was quite short, as it was rich and interesting End.
Unwelcome Visitors
I was in a small house with a door opening at the front like my old place on La Tuna Canyon, but a shade bigger. I am with a woman companion, but do not remember quite what was going on. At one point a number of famous people came to the front door and tried to barge in, but I recognized they were fakes imitating famous people and managed to hustle them all back out the door, except one who had a mop and was mopping the floor. It turned out he was mixed up with the rest just by accident and was actually a student who needed to do some work to earn a few dollars.
There was a brief scene where I was concerned with defense of the place against further invasions. There was a gun involved and I was looking through a small pile of ammunition for some for the gun I had. As is almost always the case in my dreams with ammunition, there was little if any that would fit the gun I had. End.
As I was making the coffee, the scene with the large yacht bubbled up into memory (the one I had mentioned to Jan Olsen). Today 11-2022 I only vaguely remember Jan Olsen. I believe he was a guy I worked with in the days when I was gainfully employed. The large yacht I do not remember at all.