Rain

Walking through a town that is a hybrid of Louisville, KY and Fayetteville, AR. I walk past a row of storefronts. Outside are several 50s kitchen tables and chairs. It is dark so I use a small spot light to look at them. Just beyond is a farmhouse with all kinds of cool junk in the large yard. I remember it from a previous dream as a snack bar / arcade. There are rusted, welded sculptures and old pinball machines. I see a large square table that has the same clown art as Mom and Dad’s pinball machine, but the surface of the table is a baseball game with holes at the bases and positions. Several plastic eggs are sitting there as balls. It is covered with dirt and grime. I want it and think about looking into buying it. Wonder how much it will be. As I go inside the front door, I am greeting by a large old woman. She is kind and welcoming. Brooke suddenly joins me. She explains that the house and land belong to her family. And that an artist lives there. He is on the list of famous naked artists. I am impressed and don’t question what that means. Brooke and I take a walk around back to look at the sculptures and junk. There are piles of scrap metal around and smaller welded pieces the size of loafs of bread. There form a row near a small tree. I think that all of this will be hers and thus mine. We see a man, the artist on a tractor or truck across the field. We all wave and I tell Brooke that we have to go inside because it is about to rain. The sky is clear, but she follows me towards the house. Suddenly dark storm clouds blow in and it starts to rain. I grab her hand and run as the wind picks up to gusts. We see a dark funnel cloud coming over a far hill and trees. As we turn the corner of the house, we see another funnel cloud coming through town. Brooke runs ahead into the house and I stop on the porch to take a picture of each tornado with my digital camera. I am not happy with either shot but get my ass inside. We go through the house led by the old woman. We enter the kitchen and there is red glassware (bowls, glasses, vases, platters) in variations of the same color and pattern. They sit on a shelf and inside the refrigerator. I think it is odd to have empty glassware in the fridge, but close the door without saying anything. The woman has me pour water into glasses using a clear glass funnel with a handle. When it is moving or at an angle, no water falls out the bottom, but when it is over a glass, it pours. I don’t understand how it works and spill a few drops each time I approach a glass. I put the funnel back on top of a tall glass barometer. It is open at the top of the tip of the funnel to rest in the water inside.