Ah, welcome back! I was about to continue explaining how this dreaming/waking life stuff interconnect until I got rudely interrupted by a bout of entusiasmo espanole; my apologies.
Being in this synchronic experience as it unfolded was truly delightful. I was soooo uncontrollably thrilled that Rod wanted me to CURB MY ENTHUSIASM which I found near to impossible.
On one hand this demonstrates for me how thin the veil is between the realities of sleep dreams, waking life and imagination/creativity. It allows me to think that anything is possible; I mean what were the odds that we'd invent something that someone else had made a TV episode about (no, neither of us had seen the episode before). Even if we had, we were supposed to be in Lake Placid that evening and, if things had played out as planned we wouldn't have spent our first night watching TV, that's for sure.
If we look at the function of the car periscope, we see that it allows the navigator to see ahead and smoothly negotiate the driver around obstacles in order to get where they want to go. On another level, Rod and my car periscope stream of consciousness episode seemed to hint what was to come, that we would find ourselves in a situation where we would need to see ahead in order to make decisions as to how to proceed. In retrospect we can see many different things that the periscope was a metaphor for: the blackberry and other media we consulted in order to discern when to leave the cottage; the townspeople, highway patrolman, shopkeeper and information desk person who (also in the role of THE HELP) gave us warnings of road blocks and washed out roads ahead and suggested alternative routes for us to safely proceed.
If I were to look at the whole experience as I've recounted as one dream, I would ask myself, "Does this feel like anything in my waking life now?" It resonates with the fact that I'm adjusting to new terrain and pathways forming in my life in the aftermath of Mom's passing. I'm trying to see "down the road". I'm also looking ahead to when Rod retires. Like many other wives I'm freaked out at the prospect, feeling a bit emotionally spun and stormy (= hurricane) trying to find direction (in my role as navigator) that works for both of us as we drive down the road together. At this time as the sand shifts beneath my feet, obstacles seem insurmountable and I wish I had a life periscope that would help me negotiate my "stormy weather".