Coat of My Dream's Desire

The first page of my family tree book is covered in copies of photographs of my ancestors going back 7 generations. This book of my family tree concentrates on the Mennonite side of my lineage. Those ancestors were of Germanic (Dutch, Swiss, Austrian, German, Prussian) descent who lived in isolated colonies in what is now Ukraine. They were pacifist Anabaptists who were exempt from military duty.

In one of the photographs of my great great grandfather Jakob Martens's family, his three oldest sons (all under age 8) are wearing matching coats that look very reminiscent of a military uniform or something a Cossack would wear. To my limited knowledge of Mennonite culture and fashion of 101 years ago, this is ironic.

My great grandfather is the infant in the bonnet at the center of the photograph, which means that picture was taken in the early months of 1910, meaning they had already emigrated to South Dakota. Unfortunately, there is no one left alive from that family that I can ask about those coats I am so curious about.

I have been trying to research more about asymmetric wool coats of eastern Europe at the turn of the last century, but I have been finding a LOT of dead ends and irrelevant fodder. I speak Russian and a little Ukrainian, just as my ancestors did, so I've also been searching in those languages as well, mostly realizing I do not know enough fashion terminology, period.

I have realized that those beautiful uniform-like coats might be of purely unique design, because my father told me that my great-great-great-great grandfather Wilhelm Martens III was a tailor and lived to be 100 in 1919. He could have made those coats from his own design.

My ultimate wish is to have a replica of one of those coats made for myself. I have no idea how much that would cost, but I'm hoping I could find a tailor that can make one for under $300.

My other wish is to learn the very specific terminology for the definitive features of that coat. I know it is asymmetrical, but I want to know if there is a more specific term for it. I've started calling it a "right breasted" coat because it isn't double breasted, but the buttons are way off to the right. It has a sash-like belt that doesn't appear to have a practical function other than making it look fancy, and the collar almost appears Mandarin, but I am willing to bet it is something more specific than mandarin.

If I had a coat like that, it would go a lot better with my Russian fur hat. Though, after researching Cossack fashion, I decided that these coats are not likely inspired from Cossack designs.

I need a fashion guru!

Fighting the Enemy

I left home and headed towards the city on foot. I hadn't gone very far when I found a potential shortcut by cutting through a cluster of warehouses. The warehouses are surrounded by chain link fences with razor wire at the top, but the front gate is open, and I had a fair amount of confidence that the back gate would be open as well.

There are lots of people on the grounds of the warehouse, and it looks like they were all part of an organization that was meeting there, perhaps like a secret society. I slip past a crowd of them, and someone realizes that I don't belong there, so I dart into one of the warehouses and there are even more people in there.

I get out of the back of the building where there are a bunch of people standing at another smaller fence. They are all standing by a gate talking. I need to get through them but they show no intention of getting out of my way. I climb over a low spot of the fence and run on past them because those who were chasing me were gaining ground and numbers.

I run around the back side of the last warehouse, and someone who I thought was chasing me was actually running away with me. I was starting to lose speed but he stopped ahead of me as if to wait for me, and when I caught up to him, he climbed on my back, because for some reason that was the only way we would fit through the back gate wich was actually just a breach in the chain link fence.

Carrying him slowed me down, but we made it through and the others stopped chasing us, but suddenly gunshots were fired at us from outside of the warehouse grounds. We ducked behind a cluster of vehicles in a small parking lot, and there were soldiers crouching there as well, returning fire towards the woods. There were about 20 people filtering out of the woods firing at us. One by one, a soldier would get hit and go down, and I picked up a gun and started firing towards the enemy.

I missed, seemingly with every shot. My fellow escapee had picked up a rifle and was shooting at the enemy, who were rapidly approaching. The last shot I was able to fire, the bullet dropped out of the end of the barrel with no effect. I picked up a broken rifle to use as a club, which only worked to keep the enemy out of arms reach.

I found a length of razor wire which I picked up and tried using it as a whip. It was a poor choice of weapon, as it would get caught on everything, and when I would land a hit, it would only infuriate the enemy, who took it from me somehow, and tried to use it against me. I picked up a wool blanket which was conveniently on the ground next to me and threw it onto the razor wire and it got caught and made the weapon useless.

I picked up a polearm which was nearby and swung out a couple of times, but it was so slow the enemy grabbed it away from me. By this point there were only three of them left, and it was just me and my fellow escapee. There was a table nearby with a katana underneath, and the enemy was moving towards the table to get it. They swung the polearm at me but I managed to duck and lunge for the katana.

I was able to grab it, but as I pulled it came out of the scabbard but I held it by the handle. My companion who was injured on the ground said that he would be able to wield it better. I handed it to him and he immediately deflected a blow from the polearm. I found a European broadsword and ran headlong towards the enemy swinging.

Italian Restraunt & a Reunion

I wandered into an upscale Italian Restaraunt, and selected a table in the middle of the dining room. After I sat down I picked up a menu and was about to open it when a few of my old friends came in through the door.

They sat down, and we started chatting of the old days. My ex girlfriend was among those in my company and had brought her young toddler son [which she does NOT have in the waking world] with her as well. To my right is Aaron, and he asks us what we have all been up to.

My ex-girlfriend says that she just got back in town from doing archaeology in Dallas, Texas [also which she does not do] and her son had gone with her during that expedition. A few more words are exchanged as we get settled in and then I prepare to order.

The waiter comes up to the left of me and I pick up my closed menu and ask for any glass of wine they have that is Vintage 1912. I open my menu just as my ex-girlfriend who is sitting across from me shifts in her chair and there is a light that was behind her, shining towards my face, and it was so bright that I could not read the menu. So I put down the menu and ask if they have any Cannelloni, and I would just order that.

Ready to Fight

Dream:
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I am with a group of friends on a journey pointing towards California. It is warm and sunny, and there are pine trees on both sides of the wide road. Suddenly all is no-longer care-free as someone yells for us to RUN! An unseen monster is headed our way fast. My group and other civilians are running towards a small faded yellow house on the side of the road.

We dash into the house, knowing that we are not entirely safe in there. Some of the people are panicking and run back outside in all directions. Some of them are making for the woods, others for a hotel across the street, and a few run towards the direction of the monster. We still haven't seen it, but some how we just know what it looks like... an angry black creature, larger than a grizzly bear and shaggier, mostly mouth and muscle, ornery and hungry.

I decide that if I am to die, I will do so defending my friends and myself. I can't think straight though. I need to find a weapon. There is a longbow and a single arrow on the floor, but I hesitate, knowing that it would do little damage to the monster. Then I remember what is inside one of the cases I brought!

I fling the case open revealing an assortment of swords. I quickly select the one I feel most confident using, my heavier langseax. I fit the sheath to my belt in a flash, but then wonder if the sword's weight might make it too slow. I pop open a red toolbox which contains my daggers. I find a lightweight scramasax that has a decent reach and a quick slash recovery and run out in the open to face the monster head on.

Will I defeat the monster? Will I survive? I don't know; I woke up.

Flying From the Noose

I am captured by the townspeople who have decreed that my hair is too long, and therefore, I must be put to death. My Capital Punishment awaits me but I must perform the execution myself.

I ascend the gallows where the noose is placed loosely around my neck. I look up to see the noose is not actually tied to the gallows, but is only draped over the gibbet. I feel less worried at this but a little confused.

I start to think that this really IS only a dream, and that I could do anything I wanted, but after a second glance I see that suddenly the rope is securely tied above me, and realize that it is not a dream, and that my life is very much at stake. There is no way I could fake this, especially with such an audience.

Not sure of my plan, I slip the noose off of me and jump off the gallows, landing very hard on the ground below. It takes me a few seconds to pick myself up, and the crowd and Sheriff are in an uproar. They demand injustice, and I begin to run away.

The Sheriff sends the dogs after me and I am now chased by the entire town. I know I cannot outrun them, especially the dogs, and I am hurt from the fall, so as I am running I take a few leaps into the air, each one puts me in the air a little longer than the last, and soon I am floating over the countryside.

I see the people on the ground are trying to fly as well, and only one person is successful at first, but she does not float very high from the ground. I fly towards the city and bound across rooftops, wondering how I am to hide, since I am now wanted for fleeing my sentence. I must hide in the countryside and avoid all people, since I am now an outlaw.

Ghostly Premonitions

I was not alone...
Of course I wasn't alone, I was in the company of people I once trusted.
We were all in a large and darkened house in the dead of night, and the mood was fine, until random creepy events began to take place all around us.

At first they were just little things, and we joked around that it might just be ghosts or things that go bump in the night... but then there was someone suddenly present in the house that previously was not there, and none of us knew who it was. The next moment the mystery person was gone.

I was talking to someone alone in the dining room, myself standing at the foot of the table and my acquaintance on the left side. Some of my personal effects were in a bag on the table next to a small candelabra and a blue vase, and they suddenly began to move on their own, sliding a little bit, as anything might do on a ship in rough seas.

The cobalt blue glass vase slid off the table with such force that it hit the dining room wall with enough force to bounce back towards the side of the table, landing unbroken on the hardwood floor and stopping. I had tried to catch it before it flew off the table, but I picked it up from the floor and set it back down next to the lit candles which provided the only light in the room.

I looked back up at the other person to see their reaction; they were staring wide eyed and pointing over my shoulder. I turned my head to the right, and just behind me were two bluish gray figures who faded away right after I looked at them. They had appeared to be a mother and daughter and were not looking at me, but towards the centerpiece of the table.

Needless to say, it was still a disturbing sight to behold, and I felt like I should leave as soon as the ghosts allow me to.
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The next night after this dream I found myself at the Afton Historical Society Museum. I was in the basement workshop talking to my dad, and suddenly came to a terrifying realization. The workshop had almost the exact same shape and layout as the dining room in my dream the night before, with a long table in the center. I was standing at the far end of the table and my dad was on the left side. I had only been in that room once ever in my life, and that was a long time ago, and only during the daytime did I come to know that I would be going to the museum that night, which is already haunted by the ghost of Sarah Boxell, because her gravestone is in a dark corner of the basement and her ghost was once seen sitting on her stone, wearing a white dress common in the 1850s.

Illusion

I can't remember what the dream was about, but there was a song playing in the background with lyrics that were very suitable for the mood.

The song was "Illusion" by VNV Nation and the first two lines of the chorus are:
"Please don't go. I want you to say...
I don't want you to change for all the hurt you feel."

At the time I had this dream, I hardly knew this song, but there was no music playing while I was asleep. I suppose that somehow my subconscious has already memorized this song. When I woke up I turned on my computer, found that song, and played it immediately.

Death of a Friend

Dream:
A small group of us were gathered together at a small grassy area enclosed by clusters of pine trees and short bushes. Our mood was melancholic and quiet. We were about to leave this spot when I finally realized it was a cemetery. I could see dark standing stones in regular rows between groups of trees, and there were several mourning doves perched on the branches. My realization must have been our cue to leave and our pace quickened, back to someone's apartment on foot.

Something wasn't right at the apartment. A recording was playing at the intercom stating that the doors to all the units were now unlocked and the answering machine codes were reset to "3-2-1" because of the incident that occurred recently, and that anyone would basically be free to snoop around other people's homes.

Someone in our group interpreted this as instructions rather than a warning, and as a group, we went into other people's apartments. Some people were home, while others weren't.

There was an old man who looked sad and upset about something. He was wearing a custodian's jumpsuit and I realized he worked for the landlord. We made our way into the garbage incineration chamber, and the old man grew even more uncomfortable in our presence.

This incineration chamber was actually mostly outdoors on a raised platform. There was a lift and a crane on the platform for moving large amounts of garbage. Out of curiosity I climbed up to the operating platform, and the old man became furious and began to climb up after me. Nearly in a panic I must have bumped the controls and the crane began to lose control. There was an old antique camera sitting on the control panel and it was sliding around, threatening to slip and plummet to the ground far below.

I took up the camera and as the old man reached the outside of my platform, looking more than upset he swung an angry hand at me, but I handed him the camera and told him to "save the camera, not me!" At first he appeared a little confused, but he did save the old camera.

I managed to climb back down, after which I was shown memories of the past... it was through my compassion that the camera showed me events from decades ago, as if by magic: the old man was not old, and he was beside his best friend. This was the man who was no longer alive - who had passed away recently.

The old man then showed us the way into a smaller incineration chamber, which was not active at the moment. I then saw why he was so sad. Dozens of letters were sitting in the incinerator bins waiting to be burned, and they were old personal letters between the two friends. It was the old man's job to operate the incinerator, and the landlord had ordered the personal possessions of the deceased to be burned.

The old man was obligated to do his job at any cost, even if it meant the loss of these most sentimental artifacts. He was suffering so much to sacrifice the memory of his late friend, and I wanted to do something to help him, but anything of the sort would have destroyed the function and purpose of the old man. Those letters absolutely had to be incinerated. I left the room just as the old man activated the incineration machinery.

We moved on and were walking down a road with no traffic. An elderly woman among us was the wife of the man who died. In front of me, she turned to another person and said "I know what I have to do," and she raised a gun to her head and pulled the trigger. She wanted to join her husband.