Morning of April 8, 2015. Wednesday.

I am only about twenty years old and at my older sister Marilyn's house (she had died in reality but is alive and much younger in my dream). There are several other people there, mostly relatives, including an older brother on my father's side (Rollie, also known as Dave), another deceased sister's (Carol's) husband, and others. It seems to be morning at this point (though as is typical in some dreams, the time immediately changes later on to late night).

I am not at all lucid yet still attempt telekinesis with a certain level of confidence (which yet again tells me that there is always a part of me in the background that knows I am dreaming.) My dream is of a typical level of awareness but gets clearer over time. My attempt at telekinesis does not work that well at first, though eventually, people begin to notice when I point out how a book has moved. It is on the top of a stack near a doorway and turns just a bit towards me.

Eventually, I am able to cause the book to hover in the air as well as move about the room for a time. It feels comfortable and effortless as usual. Oddly though, it is eventually discovered that there is a string attached to a corner of the book which leads to my right hand. (This of course is not feasible - as even if there was a string causing otherwise pseudo-magical movement, the book would not be able to hover at a distance from me, slightly above me in fact, with just a string linking it to my hand - though this is just the typical dream distortion from having no critical thinking skills in this state). It all seems amusing at this point and a few people get out video cameras though I do not feel that embarrassed. After a short time though, it is realized and revealed that not only was I really performing "real" telekinesis, I had also somehow "magically" materialized the string from out of nowhere when the book moved to land on the floor.

I cause a few other things to float around the room including a brother-in-law's (Corey's) cap retrieved from his head, which irritates him a bit (and he makes a comment) though he does not seem really angry. He goes in another room to get some fishing gear.

My brother Dave had apparently planned a fishing trip (and I have the awareness that I would be going) but he comes back in from the porch, leaving the front door open, and complaining in a louder angry tone about there being snow (although in reality I have fished in all kinds of weather, including ice fishing). I can see it falling when I look through the doorway (though would not be able to in reality from the angle I am sitting, as there is an enclosed porch there).

Suddenly, it is later at night and I look outside from the porch door and notice that the front yard is much larger than in reality (with that familiar vague background awareness I am making my dream yet not at all aware it is only a dream), taking up what would otherwise be the sidewalk and entire street. There is about three inches of snow on the ground but dead grass is still showing through in many areas. I notice what looks like a small igloo near the central area of the large front yard, probably a snow fort built by neighborhood kids (though this turns out not to be the case). I soon notice that it has bits of dead grass throughout the structure. Eventually I realize it is (or it changes into) a beaver hut (at least for a time).

At this point, several other relatives (including my deceased sister Carol) are standing around outside. There is a row of trees near the front of the house which was once there in reality though on the street-side of the sidewalk. A young version of my wife and several "copies" of her are in the area - some sort of lesser tulpa forms perhaps. I am able to tell which is the one I want (the most defined and attractive one) and she is automatically "bonded" to me in every way. We kiss intimately and embrace for several minutes though she sometimes walks away to work on the igloo/beaver hut/snow fort with the other copies of herself. No one else notices me at this point though I am vaguely aware they are standing around talking, possibly complaining about the weather (and possibly beavers interfering with ice fishing). Oddly, my wife is wearing a one-piece bathing suit and is barefooted even though it is very cold out. (Everyone else, including myself, seems dressed for winter, though I am wearing a lighter jacket than the others.)

In the last scene, I feel very cheerful and optimistic. I move the entire surface of the ground and snow like waves, symmetrically from each side (with sort of slow-motion clapping motions though not touching palms), the waves moving to the middle to add more snow to the "igloo" to make it larger. I mention (to any relative that may hear me) how all the snow in the area will be in one spot near the "igloo" (which implies I am saving them from doing any snow shoveling later), which is eventually the case as the entire snow cover moves over the ground making the structure larger. The sense of correct perspective and size-orientation seems incredibly real and even the sense of moving the snow as such (by thought alone) seems "real". For every few inches, the snow cover (and a small amount of dirt) forms a narrow wave (again, each side of me) perpendicular to where I am standing facing due east, resembling elevations in a vegetable garden, but continuously moving until most of the snow is gathered up (it is also as if the ground itself is forming parallel ripples at times). There is even a familiar awareness of the consistency of the snow in being either "packy" or "fluffy" though I have not seen any real snow for over twenty years.