Brian Herder's Construction  I'm watching an opera, but it's outside and there are two younger children performing in it. It finishes quickly and people leave. I am at the local convenience store. It has three levels. On the top floor there is a bar. Some teenagers go there and buy soft drinks. The main level is the one with the cash register, and the lower level goes to al back door from which you must jump down three feet to get to the ground. My mom is there. We parked her station wagon in a driveway-like space on the west side of the store. There is another station wagon exactly alike ours parked in front of ours. My mom has some bags of food. I'm going to put them in the car so we can leave. I need the keys. The bags are heavy and the plastic handles rip when I pick the bags up. I get the keys and carry the bags in my arms. A girl is with me, helping. There is a long line to get into the store. I check in a notepad for something.  I'm with my mom and we're in the yard of a house that is under construction. New siding is being put on the house. The yard is a mess. A man named Brian Herder is doing the construction. His employee says that a job like this would go for $2,000 on an Indian reservation, but here only two. I ask him, "Two what?" He doesn't reply. My mom knows Brian through her brother/my uncle Rusty Redding. Brian and her hug each other. Brian is kind of dumb: mentally slow. He talks about the construction project that went on a church, and how it wasn't organized and run well.  We drive in a car. The Hispanic man with a moustache from Mason Cafeteria is driving, but I get the feeling that he is Brian Herder. We're headed for home. We are then crawling through the yards of two houses across the street from our home. I explain to my mom and Brian the difference between a symbol and a sign, and how the difference lies in the relationship to the referent. There is snow on the ground. It is yellow from dog urine.