Watch repair, Mom & the boy scouts

Last night I dreamt that my watch had quit working.  I took it in to a watch repair shop by the name of O'Doul's or O'Houl's (the name on the sign kept changing) to have it fixed.  There, behind the counter staring blankly, was a friend of mine (a costume goddess and local boutique owner).  She looked at my watch and said it should be easy enough to fix.  I told her, if not to not worry about it.  It was a very cheap watch that I'd bought on a clearance sale - only paid $10 for it - and I really didn't want to pay more to fix it than the watch was actually worth.

Then we were sitting in the kitchen of her house, visiting around the table.  It was a small party of some sort.  I received a call on my cell phone from my mother that she'd been in a minor accident just down the hill.  She was in a hurry to get to an appointment and asked if I would come and trade her places so should could get there on time.

As I was driving down the hill, which was now a mountain, I passed a troop of young boy scouts.  Something had happened at their camp and most of them were injured and needed a ride to the hospital.  I explained to the scout master that I only had room in my minivan for a few of the boys.  He assured me that room was no problem, they could just stack the boys on top of each other in the back.  And they did.  The scout master climbed into the passenger seat, smoking a cigarette and wanted to ash it out the driver's window.  I told him to roll down the passenger window for that.

We needed to turn around in order to get to the hospital but the now mountain road was very narrow and rocky.  There were a few turn-around spots available, but they were all very tight turns meant for smaller vehicles and it would have been too dangerous to try to turn the minivan around using them.  So we continued to drive.