I dreamed that I had the honor to be able to spend some time visiting a large family/commune in Germany. The family seemed like it was about 80% patriarchal and polygynous, but also 20% egalitarian and polyamorous.
It was unclear what era I was in. The impression I got was that I was in the current day, with computers and the internet and everything, but that there was some sort of enchantment on the radios and televisions in that house, that made them only pick up airwaves from world war 2. The kitchen stove was from the 1940s and it had a built-in radio, that didn't work very well.
We watched a television program about how the German military commanders couldn't get anything to mark spots on their maps with, but they could get all the highlighting pens they wanted, so what they did was they took a highlighter, drilled a small hole in the back, and when they wanted to mark a spot, they would use an eyedropper to put one drop of cream (from their coffee supplies) into the hole in the highlighter... let it sit... and then roll the glob of cream plus highlighter ink, out onto the map.
There were a lot of animals. There was a wonderful dog who seemed like he had all the wisdom in the universe. There was a horse who seemed like he had none. The horse was allowed in the house, because they had such great respect for animals. The animals really were treated as complete equals. But I wished the horse hadn't been there. It tried to bite me, but ended up accidentally biting my shoulder bag instead. I let it.
I was starting to realize that there were political factions inside the commune. And the patriarch at the top was crotchety and grumpy, and needed lots of pacifying. But somehow it didn't seem that bad to me. I spent a lot of time in that kitchen, with the wonderful dog nearby, and with the set of people who were hanging out in the kitchen. I didn't feel *at home*; that's the wrong way of saying it. I felt fulfilled. I knew I didn't belong there to stay, or to live, but being able to visit there... and snuggle with that great amazing dog... and be able to stay in that big kitchen with the cranky 1940s stove... and have everyone treat me as if I belonged just fine... was wonderful.
It was twilight, and the grumpy patriarch called a family meeting in the gazebo. It was a warm night, and it didn't seem like any hardship to go outside, look up at the stars, and follow the ragged clumps of people out along the path to the gazebo. But I was stopped by two people, one of whom I recognized as Arc, who were trying to protect me -- they didn't want me to end up mixed up in the politics that would inevitably ensue if I were to end up at one of the family meetings. But I shrugged them off; I wanted to experience all the richness of this family, and if the politics were part of that, then so be it.
I was walking towards the gazebo when I woke up.