Leaf Katapult

1. Leaf Sling

Outside, like a garden, but much wider, only grass, and on a slope, light and spacious. Maybe a big garden. Sloping different ways.
There is a group of people, boys and girls, the mix is important, they are all young and excited.
At some point I have to elastic bands in my hands, in my left hand, and I work them quickly in a way that I can shoot one of them with the other, so one elastic band is stretched between my fingers, and the other around this one. After that I'm holding something else as well, but I forgot what.
There is a particular blond girl (the one from the Hut, who played guitar). She starts to give explanations or instructions about something. Walks a bit alone. There are two books, possibly related to what she says, one is about electricity, two others are cookbooks.
At some point this is what the elastic bands change into, they become autumn leaves, long enough to wind about the fingers and use as a sling somehow too. To do that you have to make a hole in the leave with a flap, without tearing up the leaf. I do a few of these. After a while it does not work anymore, possibly because I start to become too conscious then, and I can't find the right relation between the bigness of the hole and not tearing the leaf. But they are elastic.
I think that 1000 is a little bit too much. Something about a teacher. Can't read my notes.

2. Clearing the Space to Move House

Cat V is in the dream, quite a lot, and prominently present, light, she runs to and fro and is very active. At some point she falls from the sky, right onto the floor. Don't know where she came from. Later still she is being stroked by something. I give her a lot of attention.
There is some cleaning up to do, because we are moving house, this is still in the same house, which might not even be mine. It is time to go, and everything has to be outside before 12 o'clock. A lot still has to be packed.
My dad is there, and brothers both.
Frge is there, he goes something something (I can't read my notes), student something, actually still has to something something.
There is a part where we commute with the train, from the one place to the other and back, it is not a long distance. I am in fact on time, but because of that I think I still have time to do something else, so I linger somewhere in between first, in a private room, and then I am too late. And whatever it was I took with me I keep dragging it with me, though I should leave it somewhere.
Later there is something about kamishibai, these are story plates for children, the ones I have are very big, they look like the big floppy maps of Deltas. A mother and her son had ordered these, and they come and pick it up now. So this is the first place in fact, and very big, and the shop, or where I am which is the counter, is actually a table, and there is no one else they can ask something. I go to the shelves by the wall and find the bag with the flaps in it, but it is rather clumsy, but they are happy. There is a hallway that leads away from here, through a door across of the table. Red coloured flaps.
At some point in the dream, but I can't remember when or where, I start to pack stones and crystals. This is in a room behind the shop room. There are still people there, long tables next to each other, and I see stones that other people left, or of a girl that is there still and see that the stones have become longer or more different because mine were put among them. I can identify every stone and I do. Twice. Now I can't remember what the black ones were, but possibly of volcanic nature, the others were pyrite, lots of them, and I take these with me, two of them merged, and I ask the lady if I can take these with me, and she nods her head. So most of those stones were not mine at all, two sisters, and Loli.
I have contact with a fourteen year old girl with blond hair, later but in the same room, though different place in the room, we sit on the table, she on my lap, she looks for contact, I don't really know what to do with her. I see her hair, which is blond, but something is wrong with it and I see its history as if she has had cancer many times, and every time she's saved her scalp and put them together on top of each other. So I am careful.
In the meanwhile I write a text, there is printed text on it, all this in the same room and because of the moving, there is pencil writing, and I write between the lines in pen. Others keep moving around me. At some point we are in the garden, which looks like that of parents, and we eat. Everyone something something, sweet, something something tastes good.