I dreamt I lived in a very tall house with collapsible staircases, to which one needed the key to open and climb. My mother, alone, was staying with us. She was living out of her suitcase but had to catch a plane. I kept confusing the time of day she needed to get to the airport by. The clock kept chiming forward and backward. A group of older DC poets were staying at the flat as well. I made eggs for everyone...the DC poets were not poets I ever even knew, I doubt if they even exist! but that is who they were in the dream... So, I was making breakfast and although it was Europe, it was America too, it was the highest floor of the building but it was on the ground level as well. It was urban and it was rural, ancient and new. I went for a walk, leaving everyone stuck on the highest floor without the key to unfold the staircase. I went into a gift shop. I was suddenly back in Alaska. And Olena Kalytiak Davis worked there. I bought something like a necklace and we chatted a bit, but not about poetry. I thought it might upset her if I brought up poetry. She was young and pretty and incredibly earthy!