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Dreams putter

Found 3 dreams containing putter


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Someone (I don't know who the other person was) and I walked up to what appears to be the front of a home, looking for my husband. All of a sudden, a skimmer cover appears at my feet. Skimmer covers conceal the area where swimming pool water along with floating debris is sucked into on its way to be filtered. I lift up the cover and say, " Damn't, no wonder! Look, it's filled with crap!" The basket inside is upside down and there is alot of floating seaweed. I pull the basket out and my husband's head appears, sputtering out water. He doesn't say anything, just disappears below the bubbles. All of a sudden the skimmer which had be round to begin with is now square and I'm thinking how is he going to get out of there, his shoulder's won't fit. I'm scared but not panicky because deep inside I know he's dead. I woke up while I was thinking in my dream, maybe he's going back to the other end feet first?

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I had a weird dream last night. I was at Nana's house at night and you were asleep in the back bedroom. I was puttering about for some reason and happened to look out the window to see a bunch of strange looking people in black clothes of varying styles and types walking slowly towards the house. It was creepy. Like zombies or cult members. I went back to the bedroom and closed the door quietly so I didn't wake you up. Then, Kelly busts in! It's really odd, because she has your haircut and I try to say something stupid like "hey! twinsies!". She just pushes aside and mumbles something about wanting to talk to you. I leave and the creepy goth cultists are in the house and doing random domestic things like folding laundry and dusting and shit. I go into the bathroom and ask a particularly ugly lady (it looked like she got hit flat on the face with a frying pan) in a sparkly black top with see-though frilly neck whatevers what they are doing. She replies "Helping you, of course". The skinny guy behind her turns on a big pink hair drier and I wake up, confused and thirsty.

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