across the river and into the trees

Evening at the chateau.
"Are you bringing my Spanish au pair to the mountains this weekend?" enquired Doctor Barn lowering his newspaper.
"I thought I might," sez me.
"My God," quoth he.
Since he'd raised the subject, it seemed like a good moment to clear up a few things.
"Where are the mountains?" I demanded. "What should I do with her when we get there? I mean what should I do if I actually succeed in finding any mountains?"
He waved aside my questions.
"I thought you told me you had been given a premonition in your dreams that you were about to die," he challenged somewhat cynically. "Steve McQueen and Mother Teresa and our parents visiting you and all that. Regrets about bad mouthing Muslims, not writing books and not visiting the sick. Remember?"
You could have been forgiven gentle readers for thinking his manner connoted more than brotherly concern.
"I gotta tell you Barn, Spanish au pairs are good for dispelling premonitions of an early death," I explained heartily.
"So you're no longer getting the omens? The dreams have stopped?"
"Oh I still get the dreams."
"And what do you do?"
"I tell em to fuggg off."