Morning of June 11, 2015. Thursday.
I always find it intriguing how a dream can render a new fictional residence for the dream-self and not trigger any sense of unfamiliarity. The dream-self somehow accepts their “instant” fictional home (and sometimes even fictional family members) unquestioningly, totally “fooling” at least the present but transient incarnation of the non-lucid dream-self. Of course, the majority of my dreams at least seem to implement features from different known houses into a unique (often of only one instance) composite in an ambiguous location, but this one seems quite diverse and completely unknown (or unrecognized) otherwise. (For the record, I have never lived in Kentucky; only been through the state a few times.)
The house I live in with my partially fictional family is in an unknown region. I have at least three fictional daughters (that do not share any resemblances with our two real-life daughters). I do not recall any names. One girl seems frustrated with what is probably seventh-grade mathematics. She is working on some papers at a table in possibly a kitchen area. I mention something about helping her with her work and she looks at me as if I was being ridiculously obvious and seems somewhat annoyed, because that is how it should be anyway, and had been for years. I am aware of another girl being in twelfth grade (though it is not my real daughter) and she will probably need less help.
I become aware that I have to use the bathroom, which is a fairly rare in-dream concern (and not an actual real-life need at the time). Another one of my fictional daughters is in the bathroom but leaves prematurely (but without complaining) because of my seemingly urgent need. When I go in, I see that the bathroom is very large, about half the size of our present real-life house in area. I also notice that pieces of sheet vinyl are not firmly or entirely covering the wooden floor and also notice debris after a short time. At another wall of the bathroom, perpendicular to the doorway I came in through, is what resembles a large glass door in a commercial business but mostly with a residential doorknob in appearance rather than a commercial handle. I go over to it, realizing that it is open, and then suddenly realize that at least part of the wall is like a (transparent) glass storefront (thus there is no privacy). Looking outside, it looks like an outer area near a shopping mall. When I attempt to close the door, the entire doorknob mechanism slides back and forth within the cylindrical hole in the door, which annoys me, though I somehow fix it by moving it around until it locks into place, and then I am able to close the door. I mentally plan to tell my family about it (this is a recent recurring dream-self reflection - that is, planning to inform a family member, usually my real wife Zsuzsanna, about a problematic door.)
Going back to near the center of the bathroom, I notice that the toilet flushes itself (before I am able to use it) as if on some sort of timer. However, it overflows quickly and extensively (lifelong recurring situation), the water, waste, and debris from the poorly maintained floor going out the doorway and into the hall and then into the room of one of our fictional daughters. I can somehow see through the wall (a very common dream perspective) and realize that she is doing mathematics homework on her bed and is probably wondering where all the water is coming from. I am annoyed by this, realizing the horrendous mess that will need to be cleaned up. However, the waste, water, and debris somehow ebbs and goes in reverse back into the bathroom and toilet (as if via a powerful invisible vacuum cleaner), self-cleaning much of the results of the event, leaving the floor mostly dry and clean.
After this event (without using the bathroom), I go outside. The front yard is very large and the area is rural and I get a strong sense of being in Kentucky. The house next door is vacant (and with seemingly no house on the other side of us). However, on the other side of the dirt road, through a cluster of shrubbery and trees, I see horses pulling a carriage as well as several people walking. I wave at them and they smile generously and wave back. Most of them are older black males and females who look wealthy, though dressed in late 1800s clothes. One looks very rich and has white hair and is wearing an extremely expensive-looking suit. They cross over to our side of the road and are apparently either moving into the other house or examining it for possible rental or purchase. There is at least one old Caucasian male with them who may be either a servant or adviser of some sort. He asks me when the wood pit (which is some sort of long deep ditch between properties that is filled with firewood and uncut larger logs) was last maintained or filled though I am not quite sure.
At this point, there is an amazing refreshing wind, almost like the season somehow suddenly changed from summer to winter. Large flakes, which seem like snow at first, but then which seem like small pieces of old newspaper, as well as very small sections of tar paper and grainy debris, rains down upon us in a fairly heavy event so that some people duck a bit, though mostly out of apprehension at the unexpected event (which is not really causing harm in any way). I feel thrilled and exhilarated by this event, with a sudden sense of enhanced well-being. However, when I look back, I see that it was the wind blowing a large section of roof-cover off of my large house, so that now about a fourth of one side looks uncovered. I notice at least three layers that include actual newspaper, tar paper, and larger and thinner shingle-like covering. One of the males starts talking unequivocally about his views on the state of the house, as if he is surprised I am living there (with the apparent assumption I am very wealthy), saying something with regard to how it is more like the kind of roof for a house for an apprentice than for a someone like me (though his criticism does not seem harsh or rude). I am not taken aback, but my dream fades from this scenario.
For some reason, the in-dream "wood pit" land feature reminds me strongly of part of a land feature in an early childhood dream called "Bear Beer" (see link below).