Two weeks ago, I had a great time visiting The Historical Society of Tarrytown & Sleepy Hollow. I did “research” and enjoyed the “Victorian Secrets” exhibit with 19th and 20th century “unmentionables.” The curator there is wonderful.
Later, I had a nightmare worthy of a Twilight Zone episode:
I’m upstairs in the old Historical Society house ready to take a nap in a bedroom. It’s dark. In bed, my back faces the door. It opens suddenly and there are footsteps. Somebody comes to me in the bed, huffing out angrily, yanking the blanket roughly to cover my backside. The footsteps are fast-paced toward the door, which slams shut.
I get up and call out for the curator, my host, thinking that I’ve upset her. Creeping to the door, I call her name again. Opening the door, I don’t see anyone. I look down and to the left. There’s a mannequin from the “Victorian Secrets” exhibit, kneeling on the floor — glaring up at me!
She had stomped into that room with her Victorian morality to pull the blanket over my butt!
That dream scared the BEJEZUS outta me! Needless to say, I woke up immediately.
Wonder why on earth I’d have a dream like that — check out the rest of the cool photos!
Look! I’m “researching” — it’s what you do at the historical society!