Bad Dream 60 -- Morning of 3/21/19

In my dream, I am driving along a limited-access highway with light traffic.  I look up and to the right and there's a hill.  Up on the hill is a dilapidated old house -- seemingly abandoned and falling apart.  There are, I think windows missing and the wooden siding is falling off in a number of places.

But the house clearly -- at one time -- was pretty magnificent.  Just the overall size and the architectural features that are still apparent.  And that was most likely back before this road went in.  

The words go through my dream "Someone bought it just to resell it."  I wasn't clear on the logic of doing this: it's not the kind of house -- or in the kind of condition -- that you could simply slap on fresh siding, replace a few windows and try to sell it.  Flip it, in other words.  

My dream shifts and I am in this house.  And whomever is looking after it is doing something most strange: the room(s) that I'm in are in splendid shape, and the fixtures and features speak of a major investment.  Yeah, but the outside of the building is still deteriorating.  I would have though that you'd seal up the holes in the outside as a starting point.  (Although from where I am, there's no indication that there's a problem with the outside of the building.)

I am still in the building, but now sharing space with Frank Barch.  And -- according to my notes of this morning -- Frank is doing "stupid things."  Although we're still in or very near to the house, there is a river flowing right-to-left right in front of us.  The water is heavy with brown silt and flowing quickly.  

Frank is about to dive into the water, and I'm greatly concerned that the water may not be deep enough and that there may be big rocks close to, but under, the surface.  If Frank hits a rock like that, he's likely to break his neck.  

And that reminds me immediately of Mary Maguire cautioning me of the same thing when I was diving off a small boat into the Schuylkill River during a party.  She called out to me and told me not to dive, and I glared back at her, in essence saying: "After all the troubles you've caused me [which I now understand were responses to what I was doing -- so that she should be held blameless], who do you think you are to tell me not to do this?  As if you care about my well being?"