When I went to bed on Friday night, my eagerness for the coming day was mixed with a fear that my alarm wouldn't go off. I guess that had something to do with The Dream.
It seemed that the group was all assembled in the Fellowship Hall, each with her own sewing machine (as usual) and two to a table (as usual) and dressed in nuns' habits (not usual). And not all of the habits were the same; apparently we represented different orders.
So we were sewing along nicely and behaving much more respectably than usual, when suddenly from the northwest corner entrance came a loud commotion. In came a band of strange, rowdy nuns who appeared to be right out of Monty Python's Flying Circus! "We're the Camelites!" they shrieked. One of our number foolishly attempted to correct them. "Carmelites, I think you mean," she said. "No, no, Camelites! See we have camels!" And when we looked, indeed, these noisy peculiarly habited sisters were perched on dromedaries.
And that was pretty much it.