Back home. Unpacked. Kids, dogs, and husband have all recovered from missing me.  Only two days back and the adventure seems so long ago…

Two hours before I was to leave, I discovered that some of my necessary technology wasn’t cooperating. Panic, anxiety, some stomping and swearing, and a couple of fumbling phone calls to the powers that be and the techs that know, the problem was resolved with twenty minutes to spare.

I discovered that a three hour drive with a co-pilot seems much shorter than a three hour drive with only musical accompaniment. Other than some white knuckle moments when I decided to venture onto Hwy. 400, the drive was happily uneventful.

As is my nature, I arrived somewhat early.  Got slotted into my ‘two car widths by one car length’ field spot and much to my delight was able to pop the top up on the van and get everything set up with out needing to find someone to help.  The independent setting up of the van was celebrated with a little happy dance.  My spot was conveniently situated close to port-a-loos (with daft, cutesy names) but, fortunately, not down wind of them.

The weekend had so many things.  Moments of frustration and aggravation because of communication, time management, and organizational issues.  Desperate thoughts of tackling a micro managing, loud, obnoxious, belittling, power tripping individual, wrapping him in duct tape, and pitching him into the woods (I was even recruiting accomplices). Empathy for those picked through by security lead by the previously mentioned, unfortunately not duct taped, individual.  Grand feelings of self sufficiency, moments of isolation.  Lots of time to watch: bands, crowds, individuals, clouds…

Words, many words for impressions…

Hot, bright, dust, lots of dust

Half ass – male top half exposure, female bottom half

Man nipples, side boob, interesting sunburns, lots of ink

Golf cart bandits (who were those masked men?)

Puppy piles of content people, crowd navigation, line ups, mass migrations

Big sticks with things stuck on the end (I believe the term was totems, not sure the point or purpose, but the number of them multiplied as the weekend progressed)

Tent fields, community bathing

I was concerned that the green van might forsake me when it was time to journey home, but it didn’t.  I put the key in the ignition and it mostly, happily sputtered to life.  I figure that maybe its trippy, hippy soul was replenished by my pot smoking neighbours.