Read part 1 HERE

This part is a little rambling.

After much dancing/bouncing, our group practically ran over to the mainstage to snag a good spot for Mumford & Sons. Unfortunately, because we got there a bit early, we were forced to stand through Gogol Bordello’s ridiculous set. There was nowhere to run. It was the worst junk I’ve heard in a very long time.  All I could do was stand there, with a tall, large gentlemen’s backpack smashed into my face (seriously – one of the many drawbacks to being short).  All we could do was wait.

In the interim, we played ‘I’m going to the picnic and I’m bringing…’ all the way through the alphabet, took silly pictures, and took turns getting smashed, pushed, grabbed at, and elbowed by every drunk person in the 100 yard radius.

But then… the delicious sounds of Mumford & Sons…

They were beautiful, and I might or might not have teared up during “Lover of the Light”.

After, we headed to Denny’s for horrible late night food. Adan ordered a coconut flavor drink that looked like Windex. We were so achy, cold, and tired (the walking, dancing, sitting, standing, and then more standing for three hours with no room to move AND a full bladder will DEFINITELY do that)  that everything was funny, so anything goes! And it did.

After trying to win stuffed animals from the Claw machine (RIGGED, DAMN IT!). we hugged it out and parted ways.  Tim and I were not ready to go back to the hotel, so we hit up Cannery Row to check out the after parties and see if we spotted anyone (I saw Este again, getting out of a cab. I did not see Marcus Mumford, but we did spot Ben Lovett!).  Cannery Row at night is so beautiful. After listening to the Mumford & Sons brass section play for awhile, we decided to go back to the hotel to rest.

The next morning, we slept in again (!), packed up, and headed right for Cannery Row. Our hunger brought us straight to the Trailside Cafe, where we feasted on beignets, coffee, and omelettes. The biegnets were served with a fresh side of jam, and SO FLIPPING TASTY. A musician played guitar and sang tunes I knew, and the morning was so bright, warm, and beautiful. I imagined a life spent here and now, sipping lattes, reading the paper, not picking up food crumbs and wiping up spilled milk, and never needing to be anything to anyone. And then, I thought of Marco’s perfect little baby feet, and how I would wiggle his tiny infant legs in time to Mumford & Sons songs, and how THAT is precisely when the music meant something to me. Yes, I love the Shakespeare and the Steinbeck, I love the banjos and the kick drum keeping time, but I also love that feeling…knowing here is nothing more than that moment, and you and me and baby makes three because this is my life, and together we can see what we will find, and goddamn it, I will wait for you.

and that’s why I listen.

 The things I think about over a good donut, am I right?

After breakfast, we snagged bags of saltwater taffy from a candy store, and a stack of used books from BookBuyers (<3! discovered a few years ago when we were in town for a wedding, and I’ve been dying to go back ever since).

Of course, we still had the drive home and the boy to pick up. It was lovely to enjoy some grown-up time, and even lovelier to see Marco’s face light up when he saw Tim and I. He came back to us a little tired (Tim’s parents watched him the 1st night and 1st day, my mom had him on the 2nd night and day, and didn’t make him take a nap), but, if possible, even more handsome.

Play me out, Marcus…

xoxo