Another dream, much less disturbing -

A few days after my taquito vomit nightmare, I dreamt -

I'm coming through into the cabin of an open summer camp-like refectory place on a hill, and after walking by a cash register, there's a couple of tables set up against a wall and another table in the middle, with glass plates full of big fifth-to-quarter-size slices of little pastel tri-layered pies with central layers of gelatin-like areas and then also with different glass dishes with pastry tops like cobblers and disguising what's underneath so I can't tell what's there and what they're exactly made of, and I know they're all for breakfast, and they're slightly strange food that's meant to be fun and get you out of your norm, though they're familiar to some people somewhere as their normal breakfast food.

I take a big slice of pie into my one hand, and I ladle some pastry casserole stuff onto a dish, and then I go out the side door to where some picnic tables are lined up, by the side of the pleasant hill that drops down somehow gently, albeit abruptly.

The sky is blue, and it's nice out, and the weather is warm, and I'm with friends, including some I haven't seen for years.

. . .