I'm at some sort of camp, at something like a resort. At first, I'm in this small area like a single-car-width barn, and somebody is driving a vehicle into it, pushing ahead of it all this snow, but it isn't cold. The driver doesn't seem to see me, and the vehicle - more like a quad or a gold cart than a car - pushes the snow ahead of it, up to my chest, as I press against the wall to stay out of the way. I have a stereo, like an old boom-box, and it gets buried in the snow, down against the wall.

Then I get in the cart and we drive across the resort, which is sunny and beachy. But then I remember my stereo, and I want to retrieve it. I ask if the car can take me back there to get it, since I think it's going that way anyway to repark in the barn, and I say it doesn't have to bring me back this way.

It takes me back and I think I get my stereo, but for all this we're missing the evening activity, which seems something like a church service, like the camps I went to as a child. I'm in the hallway outside the auditorium, and I ask somebody if we're missing anything. They say it's really good, there's a young girl talking. I say yeah, sounds like it's a lot of talking, and I don't really like the talking that much.

It's evening, and we're leaving tomorrow shortly after noon, so I'm considering how best to spend the last morning of our resort time.