It's funny how what you've been watching can shape your dreams. I had one sometime last night that was kind of strange, but indicative.
So, lately, thanks to YouTube, I've been watching a lot of That '70s Show, which I caught occasionally during its run but never got into. I'm really savouring it now. Also, someone put all twelve episodes of I, Claudius up, so I downloaded them and I had them running consecutively on the laptop beside my bed as I slept. The laptop by my bed performs this kind of lullaby nightly.
In the dream, I was on some college campus somewhere. It was an overcast day at the end of the school year, warm and comfortable. I was a much younger, svelter version of myself, in bell bottoms and bare feet (thank you That '70s Show), on a warm asphalt trail that featured several bridges over a pleasant stream. Behind me within earshot were a professor and two male students, and they were practicing lines from I, Claudius. Naturally I was delighted and I quietly practiced the lines with them as I padded along before them. (This was, of course, my mind rehearsing the lines I was hearing from the laptop, brought into the dream. There was some part of me that perceived that, too, at the time.)
Somewhere along the trail I remember encountering a trailside food stand. I bought something there but I'm at a loss to remember what. There was a kind of segue from there to a large, open structure with a lot of tables, like some kind of country style smorgasbord.
From there, it went to a little river valley at night, behind a town road with houses on it, maybe fifty feet from a lively little restaurant. I was there with someone I can only describe as an older version of Penny from the old Inspector Gadget cartoon show, and she and I were using a one of those big syringes to draw off a sample from a test well down by the creek. At first it just drew up alcohol, but then along with it was crude oil. So the well was producing booze and crude. Jackpot. From there, I ended up inside the restaurant, still dressed like before, but with my parents who were more formally dressed. The reason we'd had the test well was that years before, my mother had accepted the mineral rights as part of a magic beans for the cow deal in her retirement plan, and now suddenly the beanstalk had sprung. The discussion was about how to get at the oil (and, I guess, the booze) without disrupting the restaurant.
Anyway, that's it. I thoroughly enjoyed the dream and its carefree, hopeful, and even compassionate aspects. I thought it would be nice to write it down and have a reference for remembering it. :)