Early this morning, I had a strange dream.  The zombies were after us!  And we had to flee.  There were just a few zombies wandering about at this point, and those were wandering aimlessly.  They were easy to avoid.  But we had been told that there would be many more zombies soon and they would become dangerous quickly. 

Let me stop right here and let you know that I did not watch any zombie movies last night.  I don't even like zombie movies.  I don't know why zombies, of all things, were the bug-a-boos in my dream.  (Edited section:  Now I remember that while I was busy crocheting,  my husband did watch part of a creepy movie.  He was channel surfing while waiting for another show to come on.  I didn't think any of this registered with me, but I guess it did.  The kids were not in the room.)

At any rate, when we tried to leave we realized we had a flat on the car and no way to fix it.  (I was with my husband and mother-in-law.  We were under the impression that the kids had been taken to safety.)  The car was towed to a garage.  The people there were about to leave to go to safety themselves.  They weren't happy about staying long enough to fix the car.  But my husband was forceful and insisted that they help us. 

Someone there said he would lend us a three-wheeled motorcycle.  That way, we could all leave (even the mechanics) and worry about the car later when everything was safe.  In my dream, the motorcycle was big enough for both me and my MIL to fit on the back.  The three of us were getting on the thing when we learned that the kids had not been taken to safety.  They were back at the house.  We waited while the car was quickly fixed, then went back for them. 

After we got there, my sister called.  She said all the family was going to hole up at our aunt's house, near a lake.  In real life, my aunt (who recently passed on) once had a small trailer near a lake.  It was a camp-out sort of thing.  She never had a huge house like the one in my dream.

Before we could go to that house, my MIL wanted to stop at a monistery.  The people there were keeping a large amount of money for her.  I don't know why she thought money would do her any good while we were running from zombies.  I don't know why the monks were keeping money for her.  And we aren't even Catholic!  But the last part of my dream had us all climbing steep, slick marble steps to get to where her money was being kept.

The troublesome part of it all is that, though the day is half over, I still am left with the feeling that I should be preparing the family to flee for our lives.  I just can't shake it.