This post has socks in it, so why not put it in my knitting blog? It is last night’s dream. I had to struggle to wake myself up from it this morning…
In my dream everybody — all of my family and friends and acquaintences, all of us — live in a single large apartment complex. Awake I recognize it’s a big nursing home, or elders’ apartment complex, but it was just where we lived in the dream. In the dream I’m helping my father, in his rooms, put his laundry away after it came back from the cleaners. Skivvies in his skivvy drawer. (We were raised by the Navy, and skivvies are underwear.) Shirts and pants in his closet. And then his socks. They were all wet, and they had a kind of wrapper, plastic, saying, Thank You For Your Business, The Ku Klux Klan.
The Ku Klux Klan was laundering my dad’s socks! And badly! And charging us for it!
I got very upset. I asked my Dad, Did you know the Ku Klux Klan is washing your socks? But my dad has severe dementia, so I knew it was a stupid question. He did not know. He just wasn’t happy about his wet socks.
The rest of the dream is me encountering all these people I know and people I love, and asking, Why does the Ku Klux Klan have the contract for cleaning our socks?! We should not let them wash our socks! I don’t want them washing my socks. Why is it okay for them to profit from our business? And they’re terrible at it besides! I asked the kid at the gym counter, and the guy behind the front desk and the lady serving jello salad (lime with shaved carrots) in the cafeteria… why? How can we abide this? Asked my friends, why? How can this be? How can we let this stand? Everyone seemed kind of pestered by my questions and very shruggy. It didn’t seem very important.
And I woke up very frustrated.
Of course, it’s a political dream. I’m pretty sure. And I feel just as strongly by daylight that the Klan should not be allowed to wash our socks. Kind of scared to go back to sleep tonight…