Seems every time we get ourselves to a concert someone plays a song about babies. Kind of freaky, right? But certainly not unwelcome, especially when that someone is Willie Nelson.
We are constantly reminded of how blessed we are here in Austin. We have it all: good friends, good music, savvy midwives, tacos, and sunshine in spades. Last week my buddy, Mad Betty, hooked us up with tickets to the Heartbreaker Banquet, a mini music festival that takes place on Willie Nelson's private ranch.
Luck, Texas, as Willie has named his hill country paradise just outside of Austin, is a real live working ranch, with rescue horses and prickly pear and everything. The concert took place in an old movie set, built to resemble a town out of the Old West. While Scott took advantage of the free Lagunitas (FULL ADVANTAGE) I sipped on coconut water with Girl Gone Grits and wondered what it must be like on a more regular day in Luck. My imagination placed Willie strolling through his own personal ghost town, looking for the day's perfect place to spark up.
We listened to some really great bands that day, my personal favorite being Shovels & Rope. As wonderful as the other acts were, at the end of the night Willie came on and blew them all out of the water. It wasn't so much the music he played as the love in the air that made it one of the best shows ever. Willie looked like he was having a ball, and the crowd became a happy dancing mob, swept up in the moment, and singing along in drunken delight.
I swear, that man could have played "itsie bitsy spider" and they still would have been cheering, "WILLIE FUCKING NELSON!!!!!" at the top of their lungs.
Willie ended his epic set with "Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die." It couldn't have been any better.
Anyyway, if you couldn't tell, that night was the highlight of my SXSW experience this year. We layed pretty low otherwise, only sneaking out one evening to cheat on my diet with some Jeni's Splendid Ice Cream. It was worth every lick.
Actually, it was an ice cream swap. I brought the crew at South Bites some of the Mac and Cheese Ice Cream from Sunday's Takedown, and they hooked me up with a cone plus a voucher for four pints! Now I know what my post-baby celebration will entail… A ONE WOMAN ICE CREAM BONANZA! (Because I have a serious ice cream obsession I've already gone on their site and picked out my flavors like five times. The front-runners are Brambleberry Crisp, Cinderella Pumpkin, Buckeye State, Pistachio Honey, and Banana French Toast. How will I ever choose?)
Of course, every day of pregnancy is a journey of self-discovery, so on the way there I lost control of my legs and busted my ass on the sidewalk. That day I discovered that my balance ain't what it used to be. I didn't even trip on anything, just went all noodle-legs from out of nowhere. I have to admit it was a little scary, but I had enough time on my way down to make sure I landed on my wrists and knees instead of my belly.
Between my tumble and spending most of Thursday evening on my feet at the Willie show I was pretty sore over the weekend. I don't want to say that I'm more fragile than I was before getting pregnant, but I'm certainly less resilient. It took me the better part of three days to feel like myself again after last week – sort of like being hungover but without all the binge drinking.
Speaking of which, I keep having nightmares about accidentally getting drunk. My sub-concious has some pretty wacky priorities.