In real life, I read a blurb about Groll street, a kind of magical, cobblestoned alley in Mile End. This fed into a dream where I read that Groll St. was much longer.
I walked up Groll street and it turned into one of those hydro tower clearings, running through a forest. Ahead of me, an old man was leading a cart and pony up the clearing. I was curious about what a pony was doing in Montreal, so followed the old man towards a farm. When I got to the farm, the pony disappeared into or behind a barn. It was a kind of old fashioned farm, with children and chickens and other little creatures running around.
Then the dream morphed into some kind of shopping expedition with my mother. One-year-old Imogen was with us. We were in a kitschy Italian resto/shop, waiting for my mom to buy something. The store was cavernous and there were lots of stairs to navigate. I was cranky.
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