I had a dream that was somehow familiar.  Winchester Mystery House?  Somewhere like that.  The tour.  Despite being such an old house, it raises up and walks around the park.  My mother and I mention how we'd like to see the outside, and how it does such a thing, the engineering for it all.  Last time we were here, we didn't have the time.  We made our way out of the very crowded place and watched the house rise again to make a lap.  It had long pillars which bended, and in the rear had a strong cable pulley system; the back end lagged, like limping.  Dragged by the front.  I wondered how, then, the ride was so smooth on the inside.  It was very crowded, and my father got left behind in a wave of people.  Somehow he and my mother found one another, but I, being a child, was supposed to go elsewhere.  I saw my one of brother Stuart's high school math teachers Mr. Pelt in the top of a roundabout type of thing, like at Great America.  My parents were supposed to go up there.  What I was doing there I do not know.  I went to where the kids were meant to be.  So many little ones.  We were packed in and cushions were laid on top of us.  I recall some sort of white powder, and upon leaving (escaping?) and rejoining my parents, other younger children were leaving with adults.  I overheard one man saying he came out ahead.  More children than he went in with.  It was some sort of experiment.  I wondered what they had done to us in there.  Some gap in time later, I was in a small green house, almost like a trailer.  Some kids were playing football outside.  I think it was actually a grenade.  I told them to stop playing with it.  It went off.  I don't know how much damage it did.