I’m in a house in a neigborhood in NC and locals don’t like it because our tags are from Florida.   In a large room, a house really with a large meeting room and a lot of chairs and couches.   We are waiting for a program to start, but they won’t be here until 9:30am. I think it might be a band.  The owner of the house are a couple and they are very nice although a little reclusive it seems. I speak to both of them. He is a painter and is setting out his paints. They are well worn tubes of acrylic or watercolor. I am very thirsty and he pours some water, but it is for a paint jar, and I am helping to arrange the jars on the table. I am on one of the couches, a smaller one, and watching other people come in. I move around from seat to seat trying to find which will have the best view of the dias where the speaker or band will be. 

Outside are a lot of plants and flowers and a flower shop next door.. The wife owns the flower shop ad she is an artist also. She has rows of beautiful gladiolas and other flowers on display outside. The glads are in a flowerbox growing very tall. Her teeth are very very bad, very crooked and buck teethey and she has small jewels on each of them. The top palate inside her mouth is striped blue and white like a pillowcase cover, or like it has a cover over the real palate. She laughs a lot with her mouth open and I can see in. It’s not unattractive, just odd. He is very quiet, the husband.

I walk past a woman who is sitting on the floor to the entrance of a small hallway that you have to pass in order to get to the living room where the seating for the event is, and she seems very stubborn and cranky. I tell her “that attitude will get you nowhere” or words to that effect and then ask if I can help her and she turns her head away from me.

At the ‘painting’ table with the couple, I mention that I always think it’s important to have a friend and confidant of the opposite sex to act as a muse, that the sexual tension can be a good conduit for creativity, and that my husband paints in oils and I do acrylic and watercolor.

It is daylight in the dream but we are waiting for a night time event.

There is a man with fingers only to the first knuckle and I go to shake his hand and see it is like that and we shake anyway.

Commentary on dream:

Someone said to me just recently that in NC, locals don’t like it when you have Florida tags.

I’ve been thinking of trying out different sized sofas and loveseats.

I’ve been reading Seth and thinking about Jane Roberts and Robert Butts. He painted and she had crooked teeth.

A friend was just telling me about a contra dancing band that jammed until 2am.

I used to buy gladiolas frequently and still have the tall vases to hold them.