362/365

I'm not gonna lie. I'm starting to get somewhat sentimental as I make these final entries. Like I want every day to be much more interesting than it is so i can go out with a bang. But the truth is, life is not like the movies. It is much more sporadic. Harder to predict and I'm glad for that. But back to today...

As I mentioned yesterday, we find ourselves back in the great state of Texas for the final hunting trip of 2010. And it brings me great joy to know that I have almost....not quite, but almost survived another year of these windy, cold, rural, quiet, dry and a little bit depressing days spent in Gruver. On one hand, these little farming towns are gold because they prioritize the things that matter. God, family, church, school, etc. But it's almost like an oxymoron to me because at the same time there are so many people that are starved for community. Living out in the country and not seeing but a few people a day scares the crud out of me. I would be so lonely. And yet there are those who are completely fulfilled. I guess it's a matter of blooming where you're planted. And today I was planted 4 miles west and 1 mile south of town with 18 pheasant hunters while the wind nearly took my feet out from under me. Chalk it up to marriage to find me (the least outdoorswoman) all up in that.

361/365

Aaaaand, we're back. Had a fun night hanging out with some friends in Gruver tonight. A little wine and an old guitar go a long way way out here. (Much needed socialization.)

360/365

No matter whose house we're at or which holiday we're celebrating it usually ends up with a guitar around a table laughing and singing with Uncle Dennis. But this year we were all gathered around a video of Uncle Dennis (& Jake & Cole) singing in their jammies about 20 years ago. At one point I looked around the room and took notice at how everyone was hanging on to every second of old tape like it was gold. And it made me feel really really good about this project and all the nights I've stayed up late uploading then transferring then editing then uploading again then embedding and writing a little copy. If I said I've wanted to quit a million times, it would still be an understatement. But I know that someday this will matter to somebody. Time flies and although I can never slow it down, I can do my best to remember it.

359/365

Some say that a family that prays together, stays together. I agree. But I'm gonna take it a step farther and say that a family that sings together, stays together too. I don't know how this started, but I hope it never ends. Merry Christmas from the Galyon's.

358/365

The little drummer boy's dreams came true in a big way. And the best part? They're digital. No noise at all. Ahhhh....it's a Christmas miracle.

357/365

In 3rd grade we did a Christmas musical called "The Anything Toy". I remember it vividly because: a) Erin Kruse was the lead and Erin was a little prodigy and I was mesmerised by how amazing she was & b) because I remember everything that has to do with music and my childhood. Anyway, the whole premise for this play was about how the greatest gift of all that Christmas was the box that the gifts came in. Because it could be ANYTHING! Ta-da! Well, lets just say that idea was more than validated this Christmas Eve when my niece opened about 30 presents and then played with the wrapping all night. Gotta love that. She's practical & resourceful :)

356/365

Christmas is only truly Christmas through the eyes of a child. Luckily, I've never had a year of my life this far where someone in my family didn't believe in Santa. (FYI, Coop still believes, but I feel that chapter coming to a close very soon. In fact, he may not even believe anymore, but is too afraid that he won't come if he admits he knows the truth!) I remember walking into the kitchen at my Grandma's one year and overhearing my aunt tell grandma that the dollhouse from my cousin "wasn't under the tree because it was going to be from Santa". It would've been less painful to punch my in the gut 20 times. I was a MESS. Eventually I got over that and lived vicariously through my younger brothers. And NOW, thankfully, I've got nieces and nephews and 2nd cousins that are being born so fast that I can't keep up. Thank you, God, for these little eyes who only reinforce the whole point of this holiday: new life.

355/365

The Galyon Brothers Christmas Party. There's not much to say other than I remember when we first starting going to these and it was a big deal because I was young and the idea of getting dressed up and taking a boyfriend to a "company" Christmas party made me feel pretty legit. Now I'm and old married woman and the scene looks different, but I am and always will be so proud to be a part of a dinner that acknowledges some of the hardest-working, generous, amazing men I know...the G-Bros. If you wanna know about taking a little and turning it into alot....

354/365

Gruver down, Sterling to go. The 4 & 1/2 hr drive from TX to KS aint no thang in our eyes. The first two hours of the trip are usually spent rehashing everything that went down in the last few days. The next two hours are spent predicting the condition of the upcoming few days. This trip in particular was exciting because we took "taking the backroads" to a whole new level. We didn't hit a familiar highway for, gosh, about 2 hours. Between our iphones & the gps on the truck, we kept finding little cut-acrosses. Cut-acrosses that took 45 minutes off our drive. Highway 54 can go fly a kite. We prefer the dirtroads. And as for our destination, have you ever seen anything cuter than my hometown at Christmastime? It's quaint. It's charming. It's magical. And it's all mine for a few days.

353/365

It's probably because he reminds me so much of my Grandpa Galyon who passed away when I was in junior high. Or maybe it's because he's got that good ole boy/ grumpy old man combo goin for him...which we all know goes a long way with me. But a trip to Gruver, TX just wouldn't be complete without some face time with the one and only Charlie Bell. The first time I ever visited his house, I ended up winning $50 off of him over some silly bet we made. And to this day I can say we ALWAYS leave his house a little richer than when we came. This trip we introduced him to apple pie moonshine (a Clawson household staple) and he gave us a bottle of Ciroc. Nothing says Christmas and family like the exchange of hard alcohol :)

In this clip you'll see he and Rodney playing poker off the serial numbers on $20 bills. Outcome? We net $80 in about 5 minutes. Merry Christmas, yall.

352/365

Rodney's mom (otherwise known as Gammy) is notorious for her stocking stuffers. She loves a good stocking. She's also locally famous for her Jesus Birthday Cake, which should be coming soon. So stay tuned..

351/365

Life is so ironic. Mr. Comley used to beg me to sing any kind of solo. And somehow I almost made it out of 8 years of choir, 2 years of Singers, & girls ensemble w/o a trace of a solo. Until the final concert of my senior year when I was no longer asked, but volunTOLD to sing. So I personally find it extremely amusing that almost 10 years later I finally gave in and sang the solo of Mr. Comley's dreams. Or should I say my dreams.

Tonight I had the complete HONOR & PLEASURE & PRIVILEGE of singing "The Giver & The Gift" with my alma mater's choir backing me in the church I grew up in during the holidays. I'm at the point in my songwriting career where hearing ANYONE sing one of my lyrics back to me (or use it as facebook status, etc) just makes my stinkin day. But having the harmonies of an entire choir wrap around you and the entire sanctuary...now that's a whole 'nother ballgame. Hands down, one of my favorite moments of the year. Thank you, SHS, for keeping it classy at Christmas time.

350/365

He's begging for a drum kit for Christmas this year. I apologize to everyone who lives w/in ear shot of North 7th Street. We have a little drummer boy in training.

349/365

Our next door neighbors, the Stromberg's, know how to throw a party. Probably my favorite Christmas party every year all around. I have babysat all 3 Stromberg boys, who are now far from boys. 2 in law school, 2 in frats, 2 in ROTC. But at the end of the day I never let them forget who used to send them to their rooms. I wasn't messin around.

348/365

My bro broke his hand in football (cause his last name is Galyon and going an entire sports season w/o an injury would apparently be absurd) and wasn't able to play basketball until this week. Luckily, I slid back in town for Christmas break right in time to see him play. Now, I'm a football girl at heart, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love not having to dress like an eskimo and untangle my Kansas windblown hair in order to see a game. So, here's to the changing of seasons and a very successfull Blackbear basketball season.

347/365

Growing up in a house full of little boys meant very little peace. Very little quiet. And very few opportunities to practice the piano. So I spent alot of time up at the Methodist Church in the empty sanctuary by myself. And what started as simply practicing turned into something very sacred. It was so spiritual and uplifting to sit in the silence, which I did sometimes. And then minutes later fill the whole room up with music. I miss that alot. And today, for the first time in a long time, I got the chance to just sit there and play some old hymns and not think about rhyming or songwriting or publishing or who's cutting a record or what kind of record I'd want to make or what I'd want to say. I just played. And it was heavenly.

346/365

Final day in Nashville consisted of cleaning the entire house (because we all turn into our mothers), a little studio time, a packing extravaganze and ended with 3 Christmas parties. Needless to say, we blew a big kiss goodbye to Music City in true yuletide style this year. If I told you that this was a company Christmas party, would you even believe that we have real jobs?

345/365

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't really proud of our Christmas cards this year. As my good friend Betsy said, they were "adorable & clever & heartflet & the forethought is just impressive". I mean, that is alot coming from Mrs. Jones, who I'm sure receives cards from a highly creative set of people every year. It can be hard to put together a couple-only Christmas card. I mean, I feel a huge sense of responsibility to give people a little more than just a photo. It needs a concept, a purpose, and something that evokes an emotion. Can you tell I love a good Christmas card? I would also like to add that 125 cards do not go very far when you have big old All-American, midwest families. I try to do my best to cover our bases without completely breaking the bank, but if you didn't get one and want one, email me.

344/365

Only my Nashville peeps will fully appreciate this, but today was Gerry House's last day on WSIX and it felt equal parts sad and epic. When I was in college, I had a 1 hour commute in the mornings and the race to get up and workout, get ready and out the door by 7 only to sit in the parking lot otherwise known as I-40, was somehow always redeemed by The House Foundation. I mean, it's no secret that I have a thing for older, somewhat cynical, somewhat sarcastic, maybe even a little grumpy & jaded men. But that radio show was more than just that. It was like the friend I didn't have in the passenger seat. Luckily, my schedule doesn't require me to sit in morning traffic like that anymore, but all the same, I will miss Gerry House. This was his final signing off...I'm so happy I happened to be driving at that moment.

343/365

I wish I could think of a more creative way to say: studio again. Today was a lesson in change, because to pull myself out of my comfortable, familiar studio routine and try something new was a long time coming and a hard trigger to pull. But, as usual, I was reminded of why change is good. Because if you never change all you'll ever know is all you already know. And as we were calmly recording one part at a time today, I was reminded that a) change is good and b) music should be fun. Not a free-for-all, 90 mph, race to the finish.

342/365

Oh, you know..just trying to figure out what the next chord is. Story of my life...

341/365

If I could sum this month up in one word (aside from Christmas, joy, family, music, cold, love, holidays) it would be 'studio'. The back half of this year has been so heavy on the writing that I am buried in songs that need to be recorded and I have alot of catching up to do even after the first of the year. It has truly been such a nice change of pace to not be writing everyday and to finally see some of this stuff come to life. Oh yeah, so THAT's why I've been writing all these songs....

340/365

I've been seeing these guys every morning for a few weeks on my drive into town. And it just makes me giggle. That's all. Santa's got a brand new bag..that's all.

339/365

Back at it. Thus begins the final week of writing for 2010.

338/365

You haven't lived until you've been to a small town wedding.

337/365

I know I've talked about them before, but I really did grow up with the GREATEST guys. And when I say great, I mean crazy, sharp, intelligent, hilarious, protective, tough. And the first one of our core group, Shiloh, got married this weekend. And his best man, twin brother, Tanner, had the place doubled over laughing at his toast.

All laughing aside, when Shiloh saw us in the receiving line he told Brenna that he was fine at the front of the church until he saw Brenna and me. And it was so funny, because that really got me at my wedding too. Looking out and seeing my peers. I guess this is a testament to the fact that we are more than friends. We are like sisters and brothers giving each other away to the loves of our lives. And this phase of our journey is so fun. I loved at one point during the reception looking down the table at 4 significant others of Sterling girls who were from totally different states laughing and talking like they'd been friends forever just like us.Time marches on....

336/365

She found herself in my iPhone. And not even chronic hiccups could make her look away. I wouldn't either if my face was that precious.

335/365

Morgan will forever have to say that her very 1st Christmas gift in her lifetime was from Aunty N.

334/365

Tonight was not a night of fashion or cosmetics. It was a night of sheer survival down at LP Field for the Titans game. Two weeks ago when the offer came to go to the game, it was 60 degrees. Little did I know that I'd be in full-on ski gear. Our poor Teetons lost their 6th game in a row.

333/365

The aftermath of a good Christmas party means no sleep and therefore shredded vocal cords. Needless to say, this was the fail of all failures in the studio.

332/365

I can't speak as to how this came to be, but I am here to confirm that it is legit. I am officially on ego-patrol.

331/365

You know you're in trouble when they start showing up in Santa Snuggies. And the night ends in a group rendition of "I Saw Todd Today". Oh dear...

330/365

You know you're sitting on something you're reeeeaalllll proud of when you won't let anyone actually hear the songs. We recorded what the world will not hear until next year tonight. It is going to be classic, I tell ya. Classic.

329/365

In reference to yesterday's post...this is what happens when you comp vocals for too long.

328/365

I have the upmost respect for anyone who has to bear the burden of comping vocals. Cause in my mind I believe it's more like a form of torture in other countries. The only redemption must be getting to spend some time with us :)

327/365

Considering that this is the only weekend I'm in Nashville this month, I opted to put the gift buying into overdrive. Let the giving begin!

P.S. Did I mention it snowed today? (cue: loud applause)

326/365

When you leave a party like this, you either: a) double up on the birth control, or b) want a baby real bad.

325/365

When Noah built the ark he brought not 1, but 2 of every animal. So when Hayes Tompkins turned 2 he incorporated his furry friends.

324/365

It's fun to be in the studio period. But to be in the studio with a Grammy award winning producer is even better. I think I can speak for many young female writers out there when I say that I have found that communication in sessions can be an uphill battle, especially when one's hair is blonde. The whole game changes when you have a respected producer translating what you hear in your head and making it come to life. This is my "get over it" song.

323/365

I won't reveal much of what this song is called or what it's about, but Michael Dulaney and I are so excited about what we just finished. It took 3 appointments over the course of a month. It should also be mentioned that according to my wedding ring compass, the cold weather has arrived...

322/365

As of 10:00 pm on December 2, Mistletoe 2.0 is completely written.

321/365

Today I walked into Target and bought a cd. And on that cd was a song I wrote. Grateful much? I remember the day we wrote this I met Betsy at Urban Flats afterward and I immediately said, "I think we just wrote something really special." (The clip at the end is from the day we wrote the song.)

320/365

I can neither confirm nor deny wether my co-writer was hungover or not today. Bless his heart.

319/365

Don't forget to fly.

318/365

Today I am rolling out one of my recent obsessions....the accordion. I have been dying to learn how to REALLY play and I have a ways to go, but the girl that's played keys her whole life feels right at home. A certain spouse seems to think I look silly. But the general concensus so far is that I'm hippie country gone mad. Which is a compliment in the greatest sense if you're me.

Anyway, the point. So I walked into my friend Marcus's house today to write and what should my wandering eyes should appear but a bright red accordian across the room! So of course we HAD to write a song with it. You just wait, I'm going to get better. And better. And then I'm gonna whip this thing out at the CMA's....errrr......baby steps, Nicolle. Baby steps.

317/365

Is it sad that I can't remember the last time we ate a meal at home? Yeah, we are those people.. What's even sadder is that I didn't make it.

316/365

Hellooooo Nashville skyline. You sure are beautiful. More than 2800 miles. 10 days. 11 states. 2 Thanksgivings. 15 miles a gallon. You do the math. It all adds up to....PRICELESS.

315/365

He's my cousin. He's my lifelong friend. He was the king to my homecoming queen back in the day. And he's also the Hesston College men's head basketball coach at the age of 26. That's Dustin Galyon. I've always admired his passion for life and his extreme work ethic. I guess if there's one thing we have in common, it's that we are not afraid to just GO for what we want. And I am so glad that we have somewhat parallel lives in terms of dreams and relationships and faith. I mean, how many people can say they talked to their cousin (who's a dude) for 2 hours this morning about love, life and looney tunes. So glad I got to watch him lead his team to a victory this weekend. Go Larks...and Go D-Gal!

314/365

Black Friday? Not through his eyes...

313/365

Forget whatever Mastercard says. THIS........is priceless. Secretly got this footage of Grandma Jean talking about Grandpa Ed [who passed away of cancer about 13 years ago]. You can see where we get our strong will.

312/365

I don't even really remember how it all started, but I'll never forget how one of the greatest Thanksgivings I've ever had ended....with everyone hugging and telling each other how much they loved them anyway. No matter how different we all are. You probably wonder why the "anyway". Well, you'll have to be a Galyon to ever really know how the script read, but I can tell you this much. We are a passionate group of people who are all doing the best we can to know God, regardless of our different realities. And when you get that many convicted people in the same room at the same time, sometimes it leads to discussions. Very loud discussions. Where someone may or may not start crying. And someone may or may not point their finger. And someone may or may not get frustrated and feel misunderstood.

But the beauty of family is that everything is trivial in comparison to the fact that we are family. And family is family is family. Our love is deeper than our opinions. And our unconditional support system is stronger than our opposing views. And at the end of the day I am thankful for a family where we all feel safe to disagree and secure enough to say how we feel, because we know that there's nothing we could say that could sever the unity we have.

311/365

This is the scene within one hour of getting home. And I'm supposed to sleep in this room? Girl can't get no privacy up in here.

Lets just talk for a second about what's really going on here. One is playing a computer game, one is playing xbox, and one is checking a new demo mix. No matter what the technology is, none of them are speaking to one another.

310/365

Operation Red Lights- hang Gammy's Christmas lights come hell or high water.

309/365

Let the games begin!!!!!! (Thanksgiving, that is.)

308/365

1700 down, 1100 to go. The cross-country, roadtrip adventure is well underway. I knew I'd clocked quite a few hours on the road when I actually passed on a Sonic Breakfast Burrito this morning. And not only that...but I ordered a banana. A banana! Says the girl who takes to fruit like oil takes to water. I guess that was my body's way of entering into fast food detox. It's ok, though. We're at Gammy's now. Should get plenty of nourishment in the form of barbeque chicken and mashed potatoes in the next few days...

Which brings me to my point: it's always worth it for family.

307/365

Wander the Gulf Shore beaches by yourself for long enough and you're bound to make a friend or two.

306/365

What I didn't mention yesterday was that I'm a real "bloom where I'm planted" girl. What does a songwriter stuck at a songwriter's festival but not playing the festival do?

Whatever she wants.

305/365

Thanks to BP's effort to "restimulate" the economy in the Gulf, I am riding the coattails of my beau at the 1st Annual Northwestern Florida Songwriters Festival. Like I tweeted, being married to a songwriter and being a songwriter are two totally different things. All weekend I got to brag on how great of a writer my husband is and just be proud of him from the shadows. That's fun. Because I know that someday if the tables turn, he'd be right there doing the same for me. I'm gonna be transparent for a minute here, though. Everytime I go to one of these things, the other writers, the great people at BMI, etc. try to et me up on stage to do a song or two. But I duck out everytime. I can't enjoy something just being handed to me because I'm somebody's wife. I have to believe that one day I will do something worthy of being asked to be there exclusively by myself. And when that happens, I will eat it up. But, until then.....it is his time.

304/365

I see live music in some capacity 2-3 x's a week. So please understand the weight of this next statement. Show of the year. I present to you my personal highlights from Needtobreathe @ The Ryman. I literally had tears in my eyes more times than I can count on one hand. Sometimes I forgot that I was a concert. It felt more like church. A really, really, really badass church. Where no one was looking at each other. Everyone was there to celebrate something wonderful. And all the glory was given to something bigger than the room we're standing in. That is good music.

303/365

"Let the sirens sing, sit back and watch the show. Let em call our county name out loud on the radio."

302/365

Julie's hooking up with her married teacher's assistant. Tammy's all up in a tizzy about Epic and the drunken girl youtube video. Becky's dad and stepmom go berserk, causing big bro Riggins and his former-stripper wife to turn a corner in their relationship. Buddy manages to get his troubled son on the football team in an effort to clean up his act. By no means have the Friday Night Lights grown dim. And in no way has Dillon, TX let me down in our 5th season rendezvous.

301/365

"Sometimes I wish I had a little dirt here on my hands. A little piece of my own land. And the sun on my shoulders."

300/365

300. Repeat. Day 300. It's safe to say I'm rounding third base on this thing. And to think I had doubters. They never knew me in the first place if they didn't think I would finish what I started.

So, I'm driving home in what you can see is some snail-paced traffic, when what to my wondering eyes should appear? But the new Chuck Wicks single, "Old School", written by my deer-hunting, slow-talking, truck-driving, Texan. Yup. RDC. It's a song that I've been grooving to since spring when it was written (for the one or two of you out there that are dying to know...*wink wink*), and squealed like a little girl when I hear it for the first time on the radio. It truly made my evening commute lovely.

One more time. All together now. THREE-FREAKIN-HUNDRED.

299/365

Today in one word: mellow.

298/365

Always the piano player, never the bridesmaid. And so it continues..

297/365

Greetings from The Hatch, aka the Jones studio. Seth had no idea what he was getting himself into when he asked to write a Christmas song with us. For reals.

296/365

My feet feel as if someone has beat the bottom of them with a baseball bat. Being social comes with its consequences. Woohoo....cma awards!

295/365

bmi awards = 6am

294/365

Throw on a hoodie and leggings, head to a Sunday evening movie. And then you find yourself chauffeuring a rockstar around town til 6am. Long live Nickelback.

293/365

Falling in love.

292/365

Uh oh...I'm being me again. A song about God. And a dirt road.

291/365

A routine doc appointment. I rushed out of a co-write and flew down the interstate just to sit in an empty room for over an hour. I was ready to check into an asylum by the time I checked out. I will never understand why they don't just let you sit in the waiting room until they're actually ready for you.

290/365

They're BAAAAAAAAAAACK! Friday Night Lights, Season 5, Episode 1-2. BOOM. Does it require a party every week? You bet your Texas arse it does.

289/365

Few things bring me more than joy than seeing a young person learning to play piano. I know this probably qualifies me for eternal nerd-dom, but when I was growing up, it was almost as exciting as Christmas morning to complete a piano lesson book and run to Johnson's music w/ mom and buy the next level. (If only the songwriting game was so linear.) And then in junior high when everybody else quit because they either hated it or were too busy chasing boys, I continued. Practicing and competing. And then in high school, I spent my summer afternoon in solitude up at the church sanctuary practicing and memorizing 30 piece Concerto pieces. Only to move to Nashville where....no one....reads.....music. Wouldn't ya know..

But then tonight I walked into my friend's house and her daughter, Caroline, was in her pj's and couldn't wait to play jingle bells for us. It truly takes me back to see notes on a page.

This summer I had lunch with my former piano instructor and she told me that students achieving less and less every year. She says that technology has given kids such a need for instant gratification that the concept of self-discipline and truly STUDYING something (like piano)--as opposed to just Googling something, has really hurt the arts. Anyway, it's just really inspiring to see young people who WANT to play and are EXCITED about it.

288/365

"It echoes down these halls. Paints pictures on these walls. The sound of a simple song from the 6-string in his hand."- Gibson (Galyon/Morgan/Hummon)

287/365

As they say, the show must go on. And I can't keep my fans at my undisclosed location hanging. In honor of Miss Carey releasing her 2nd Christmas record today, we changed it up a bit and paid tribute to all things Mariah tonight. I mean, talk about a song that just gets me goin every.single.time I hear it.

286/365

I hear so many people complaining about how modern technology is such a detriment to our quality of life. And they make alot of great points. But as I was blow drying my hair, folding laundry and getting ready to go play a show ANDDDDD watching my little bro play in the bi-district playoff game live from Smith Center, Kansas, I was so grateful for all the brainiacs of the world and what they've done for my life :)

285/365

I would like to call this one "rehabilitation". I'm currently a sick-o, popping Mucinex and Z-Pacs left and right. Breathing through my mouth and pulling the covers over my head. The only upside is that I have completely caught up on Oprah, Dexter, The View, Terriers, Modern Family, Eastbound & Down...you get the picture.

284/365

Happy Halloween! No Trick-or-Treaters in this neck of the woods. You would have to be a horrible parent to let them venture down this street. So instead we treated (pun definitely intended) ourselves to adult things...like football and wine and smoked turkey. And then the neighbors walked over and delivered pumpkin cheesecake. Don't even get me started....

283/365

Working on a Saturday night.

282/365

Don't you wanna ride-ride in my convertible? Don't you wanna fly-fly in my convertible?

281/365

"All the good old boys who wanna drive too fast and all the girls next door with too much time on their hands."

280/365

This was a big week for my co-writer, as his labor of love, Speak Now, the new Taylor Swift record was just released days ago. And it was so inspiring to hear my Grammy-winning producer/writer/friend Nathan say that there truly is no better life than the life of a SONGWRITER. Amen to that, brother.

Today's lyrical journey was about moving on from to the things that you can't change. This was ideally therapeutic for me because I hold "the way things used to be " and "the good old days" on a pedestal, as if the world is moving backwards or something. It's not. The world is moving forwards. And the things that we can't get back (our childhood, lost loves, Elvis)....all have their day. And if they lasted forever, they wouldn't be as valuable.

"Live is short and love is too. You take it as it comes, as it's comin' to you..."

279/365

I'd like to present "Giver & The Gift: pt 2".

278/365

Some days you just need to tell the music business go fly a kite. In a song, of course. That you will eventually turn in. To a publisher. In the music business.

It's like I can't really remember what started the whole thing, but somehow in our conversation we decided that we are not going to settle for letting some suit behind a desk decide if we are special or not. We already are.

277/365

So I drove four hours to Kansas City, flew to St. Louis, sat for 3 hours, flew to Nashville, drove straight to the party to see Lindsey's song on "Brothers & Sisters".....and then the screen switched to a tornado warning. [clarification- Matthew Perryman Jones (no relation) singing Lindsey's song]

Don't even get me started on how disappointed I was. But thankfully someone in another state facetimed the show through their iPhone so that they could see their first sync license come to life! I am so proud of my girl, Lindsey. She was writing songs long before I was and she has never. given. up.

276/365

Part of why I'm "one of the guys". Because this is my reality. Typical. Galyon. Saturday. Afternoon.

275/365

If only I had known that I could be a songwriter when I was 9. Cooper leaked his first song to us today on the front porch. This is called "Superman". Watch out Biebs. C-Pain is ready to put the hurt on ya.

274/365

It was supposed to thunderstorm. It didn't. Hoisington was supposed to kill us. They didn't. They weren't supposed to have crunch cones at DQ. They DID! Thank God for the unexpected. It was truly a great night all around and well worth the long flight to Tulsa and the long drive to Sterling, then the long drive to Hoisington. I had to stop screaming in the middle of the 2nd quarter for fear I might lose my singing voice for tomorrow night's fundraiser. I think that this is a sign that Sterling needs to get astroturf on their field. Anyone?

273/365

"So this is what it feels like to hang with the cool kids."-mom

Just trying to be a good daughter here and give my mom a good birthday. I think Josh Kelley's birthday serenade and hanging on Miranda Lambert's airstream sufficed. If not, I'm running out of cards to play.

272/365

Nerves of steel, baby. That's what it takes to sit through a 3 hour song meeting with your [big, bad, mean] publisher. "That doesn't kill me." "Hmmmm." "I think I like it?!"

This is my least favorite part of writing songs. Actually playing them for the gatekeeper. Not because the gatekeeper is cruel. But because no matter how hard I try to listen through an objective lens, I always have and always will have expectations. Songs I believe in (but maybe they won't). Song I think are good (that maybe they don't). Songs that I don't love (that maybe they'll deem as ok). And it is an emotional rollercoaster. But if that's the roughest aspect to my job, then I'm a lucky sonuvagun.

271/365

And so it begins....2.0

270/365

I loved the song "That Summer" before I was even old enough to understand what it was about. And I guess that says something about a great song. It makes you feel something even if all the words don't translate. And it also says something about a great vocalist. They can communicate that emotion in a believable way. Such a way that makes a 10 year old way receive a song about a teenage kid hooking up with a widow woman. So, thank you country music, and thank you Garth Brooks.

Tonight was a special night and instead of putting up a 30-second clip and going for the mysterious, less-is-more delivery, I thought it would be neat (I hate that word, but its appropriate here) to give you non-music business folks a little peek behind the curtain. This is from the Nashville Songwriters Association yearly dinner where every year members vote for the 10 songs they wish they'd written that year - this year's recipient was "The House That Built Me". Duh. They also induct several members into the hall of fame. And Mr. Brooks was there to honor his co-writer and good friend, Pat Alger. I was sitting there a few tables away from him all night remembering the nights I laid in bed listening to the "No Fences" cd on my Walkman. Yes, Walkman.

All in all, it was a fun night and I, once again, was asking myself "How did I get here, again?!"

269/365

I don't really have an explanation, other than that they are my friends and I love them anyway ;) I almost said "don't quit your dayjobs" and then I listened to the #1 song on both the country and pop itunes chart....

268/365

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a bee that looks like a wasp but doesn't sting! We are up to our eyes in some kind of insect plague here. And although this is the first I've mentioned it in writing, it has been a constant source of domestic turmoil in my life for the past month. I don't even know how to begin explaining how much it pains me to walk into our basement and see these little boogers every morning. I have done everything but scream obscenities at the top of my lungs and hope they fly away out of fear. Any entomologists out there?

267/365

"I spent my Friday night at botanical gardens viewing a blown glass exhibit." Words I thought I'd never hear myself say. At least not before the age of 50. But when fall hands you a night with friends drinking wine and wandering through the darkness with flashlights, you go. And don't ask any questions. For those of you outside of Nash, we spent our night at the Chihuly exhibit at Cheekwood. If you really care, I guess you can Google it or something. Basically, it's a field of dreams for the upper middle aged, upper middle class. Neither of which applies to me. All in all, I had a great time and was truly intrigued by the phallic glass in the center of the park.

266/365

If there was one word to describe marriage, I think it would be compromise. To some that may sound sad. But in the case of our 3rd anniversary it is a beautiful thing. It is a well known fact that I have always been a big fan of the gray hoodie. It's like wearing a big bear hug all day long. A bear hug coupled with a comfort of a snuggie. But the unfortunate downside of the gray hoodie is that in the mind of men it is also synonymous with "frigid". So I don't wear gray hoodies very often anymore. [example 1 of sacrifice]

So for our 3rd anniversary Rodney bought me a bag of Skittles (my favorite candy of all-time) and a brand spankin new gray hoodie. [example 2 of sacrifice] And that's why it works, people....

In all seriousness, I love that man more than life itself. I don't really remember life before him.

265/365

Wouldn't YOU like calling this your workplace?

264/365

Can't wait til Morgan figures out that I'm her favorite aunt.

263/365

How embarrassing. Raised in the great state of Kansas and don't know how to ride a horse. Well, not really. I'm not that torn up about it. In fact, the entertainment value of my extreme ignorance is well-worth the extreme ignorance...if that makes any sense. Ahh, who am I kidding?! I am 263 days in. Making sense is pretty low on the list of priorities anymore.

Back to the point. We ventured down to Inglewood, KS ($50 to the first person who can find it on a map.) for a family picnic. And when I say picnic, I mean pic-NIC. Catered bbq, horse riding, buggies, bonfires, basketball, cowboy hats, and lots of Clawson's. I was talking to Rodney on the way home and we both agreed that it is so nice to be a part of a family that values "the way it's always been". For the most part, we live these somewhat unconventional lives comprised of unique social networks, jobs and family structures. But at heart I love that at least one part of my life is old-fashioned. A family who still wears cowboy hats and lives on ranches and eats dinner together at night and works together on the farm and makes it to church on Sunday morning. God Bless the Clawson's.

262/365

Homecoming means coming home. So, of course, I obey. And for the next 3 years my new favorite number shall be #10. Go, Galyon, Go.

261/365

I think I was in 5th grade, so that would have been......(carry the 2, borrow the 9).....15 years ago. Yup. 15 years ago I faced the sub-zero temperatures and watched as Bill Snyder's Wildcats took on Tom Osborne's Huskers. And, unfortunately, the outcome was the same then as it was this year. The Huskers didn't SHUCK, as my shirt so boldly stated. But, we had a great time. And in some way, I felt a bit of the baggage from attending a college w/o a football team float away. Belmont Bruins, you steal my money. But Kansas State Wildcats, you have and always will steal my heart. EMAW, baby.

260/365

I don't know where she went. The girl that used to finish papers weeks in advance. The girl that used to remind others when assignments were due. Somewhere in the transition from golden girl to starving songwriter, I lost her. Because I showed up to book club (which was partly my idea) without reading a single page of our book (which I helped pick). And the worst part? I was ok with it. Ughhh....songwriting is making me die to myself.

259/365

Thank GOD i reached for my camera when the Birthday Song started. I have no explanation for these 3-and-a-half minutes. But the moral of the story is this: never underestimate some good cheer. Happy Birthday Seth Jones! If you'll remember it was his wife, Betsy's bday, that took us back to the previous decade. I'm seeing a pattern of epic celebrations here.

258/365

How did I get here on a Sunday night?!#*$^)@

257/365

Andy Davis hath become a star of rock.

256/365

I've been discovering lately how much of my past I haven't tapped into in terms of material. I think that what a writer writes is mainly dictated by where they are in their life currently. But, in my case, there's a lack of tortured songwriteress lately. So I've been in a bit of slump. So why not flip back a couple decades and write about some of that, huh? Yeah, that's what I thought. Brilliant.

Anyway, there's a girl I grew up with who shall remain nameless. And I've had this idea in my handy dandy ideas folder for months and months now. And I scan that folder every day for something to write. But it's never jumped out at me for 2 reasons: 1. I wasn't 100% sure how to execute it and 2. I never felt like the person across from me would be into it.

Until today. Thank you, April Geesbreght, for "getting it". This song was inspired by running into a childhood friend I hadn't seen in years in the grocery store back home. In short, she looked sad and weathered and you could see the toll that life had had on her. When you encounter someone like that you expect to see the girl that you rode bicycles with, not the girl with pain in her eyes. Anyway, we wrote this song called "Jenny" about a girl who shall remain nameless. And although it was written by me for me, I think that everyone has a Jenny somewhere in their life. The person that your heart breaks for and you wish you could just hit rewind and undo what's been done to them. Jenny, I could love you if you'd let me.

255/365

I'm starting to think that birthdays are more of a reminder of what really matters than a celebration of a person's birth. Wether it's a late night limousine on the town singing karaoke or an intimate sit-down dinner in the comfort of a home, there always comes a moment of sentiment somewhere between the killing of the lights and the first few words of the birthday song. It is in that moment that no matter how I've had to drink or how distant my relationship with the honored guest, that I go to that warm and fuzzy place. In a matter of seconds I appreciate the beauty of friends and life and death and all the time in between more than ever. I guess it's because I realize (as was stolen off a friend's facebook wall earlier this week) that we ourselves cannot make our own hearts beat. It is but the mercy of God that we have life at all. And every year when we stop and stare into those candles, it becomes glaringly obvious that we did nothing to deserve another 365 beautiful rotations on this rollercoaster of a life. And I think that this time of year, especially, as it seems that I have a birthday party or two everyday (thank you, Christmas lovers)....I am thankful for this wave of reminders that God is up there pulling the strings. Every. Single. Breath. I. Take.

254/365

"I don't wanna celebrate my birthday this year."-Rodney

Well, take that.

253/365

For someone as competitive as myself, it is difficult to confess that I do not get soccer. It's a frustrating race against the clock. Hours worth of trying to get the ball rolling in the direction you want it to go, but not even the best of intentions, the strongest of skills, or perseverance guarantees that your ball will EVER make it in the goal. I'm sure that statistically the number of attempts in ratio to the number of successful goals is in layman's terms, is nothing short of a crapshoot. But these players continue to run distances and bang their head against the wall for grueling time spans, with just the simple hope that one split second of opportunity will open up, and when it does, they are fully prepared to score. I mean, how could you love a game like that?

Wait, am I still talking about soccer....or the music business? Whatever the case, go Lee U!

252/365

Today I met one of the products of the baby shower marathon! Morgan Avery Winn. Daughter of my childhood bff, Brenna.

251/365

My brother got a wife. I got a sister. We all got a good cry. Congrats, Taytay. Love you.

250/365

They're the Little Bears. And they've yet to score a point this season. You'd think they were Olympians since they've got the positivity of Tony Robbins. And, for that, I applaud them. I also applaud my father for coaching a bunch of 1st time football players. I think I heard someone ask what the score was during the game today. He had to show them how to read the scoreboard. Bless his heart.

249/365

Remember how they knocked the school down? Well, the next chapter has begun. I am happy to report that my hometown has a hot rockin' (thank you, Amy Outlaw) facility, full to the brim with things they've never had before. Like microphones for the teachers. Like Smartboards. Like a legit cafeteria. And, fortunately for my brother, lockers for the 4th graders. Whoa, baby. Get ready for some world domination. Cause this building makes those kids feel like the sky is the limit.

248/365

I am probably disqualified for candidacy for Wife of the Year. Somehow along the way I decided it was okay to fly to Kansas ON my husband's birthday. Lucky for me, he loves me anyway. Lucky for him, I'm resourceful. Happy Birthday to my best friend.

247/365

Dear Strange Neighbors,

It seems as if our chronicles are coming to a close. We were deeply saddened to return from Mexico to find what else but moving boxes in your front yard today. We have grown quite attached to your shady, once possibly polygamist, far too big to be a short-term rental property. I am sad to see you go, but am grateful for your countless contributions to my blog. From our undercover meeting in the driveway to our exchange of chocolate chip cookies to the sheriff’s notice of inspection on the front door, we have truly built something wonderful. How can we repay you for the never-ending pool of content, mystery, and overall fascination in our household. You will be deeply missed.

My Regrets,

Nicolle

246/365

Adios, best shrimp ceviche I've ever had. Adios, badass golf carts. Adios, Casa Mimosita. Adios, Emperadora vanilla creme cookies. Adios, open air hanging bed. Adios, Coca Lights. Until next Febrero....

245/365

They catch it and cook it and throw it on your table. Beyond that it's up to you.

244/365

And on the 5th day they bought drugs. No trip across the border is complete without an obligatory trip to the local farmacia for a winter's stock of Z-Pac's and amoxicillan. The hilarity of going to one pharmacy and being told that we must have a prescription in order to purchase and then walking literally 25 yards down the street and hearing "oh yes! we sell you that!"....well, it was classic Mexico.

243/365

This very well may have been the most monumental thing that has happened all day. Seriously.

242/365

They say you don't know what you've got until it's gone. But I say you don't know where you'refrom until you're gone. Much like the way I didn't understand how windy and flat Kansas was until I moved to Tennessee, I didn't realize how precise we are in the United States until I went to Mexico. I mean, when we build a sidewalk, we actually start and finish the whole block. And when we build a structure, we actually paint the WHOLE thing. And it's not just the economic state down here that is responsible for this behavior. I think it's generation after generation of not knowing any different.

Aside from the obvious luxurious perks of this trip, this week has really been such eye-opening experience as far as better understanding the Mexican culture. We aren't at a resort surrounded by American conveniences. We are immersed in the lifestyle of this island and i am just a sponge. Taking in every single detail of even the most ordinary events, ie the grocery store. And I am not proud to announce that I have since begun a love affair with these Dulci Gamas gummy candies and Emperador vanilla creme cookies. Oh, Lord, help me...

241/365

So you think your firework dreams have all been grounded by rain on July 4. Then you spend the next few months emotionally recovering from the proverbial rug that has been ripped out from underneath you. And you finally accept that all your patriotic energies went down the drain. (Oh, how I love the metaphors.)

Then...BAM....you wake up in the middle of the Isla Mujeras town square with a couple thousand people celebrating the Bicentennial Mexican Independence Day. And all things are right in the world again. A cherry on the top of a day filled with a long run through the back alleys of the island, a little sand volleyball, grapefruit vodkas, lobster quesadillas, Sara Bareilles on the ipod and my feet in the pool.

Viva la Mexico! Happy 200th Birthday-o.

240/365

Hola mis amigos! I come to you today from the salsa-rich culture down here in May-hee-ko. If my posts are brief this week it's because I'm busy bathing in Sangria and ending every sentence in "o". Today was primarily spent traveling, but I just overheard someone say we were taking the golf carts down to eat ceviche. So adios amigos! See ya later-o!

239/365

By far my favorite part of my job. Recording piano. It's like I'm at home base. The singing, the performing, the rhyming....I like it all. But I have to really stretch myself to claim those as my natural being. The piano part just flows. Don't quit practicing, kiddos. It'll stick with you a lot longer than football.

238/365

Glorious. Just glorious. Due to a VERY late return home from Knoxville, we had a lazy morning and then had a GREAT day at home. We're only here for like 3 of the next 15 days or something like that, so if there was something to be cleaned, bought, organized, paid, exercised.....it needed to happen today. The flowers on the front porch made me smile. The sound of the boy down the street practicing his trumpet made me smile. The fact that my running shorts felt a little too snug even made me giggle. Nothing about my day was out of the ordinary, except for the fact that the sun was shining, football was on and I had the priviledge of paying my bills and buying groceries and backing up my hard drives...oh yeah, and getting our monthly his & hers pedicures. Ahhhhh....

237/365

There used to be a day when walking miles in the rain to watch a team I didn't even follow play was out of the question. Those days are gone. I guess it's a combination of maturity, perspective and who knows, maybe even in small part, this blog, that's responsible for it. But somewhere along the way I've started assessing situations based on their worth in memories rather than convenience. And today was an example of that.

Normally I'd consider the time, the money, the fact that I don't know the name of but 1 UT player. Not to mention that I look hideous in orange. But there was a moment today where I was shoulder to shoulder with 100k plus people in the walkways of Neyland Stadium taking cover from a torrential thunderstorm....trying to hold a hotdog and 3 bottles of water....and protect my camera...peeking through the hood of my fishing jacket turned raincoat....dodging very "touchy" college guys....navigating my way back to the group.....when I thought....

what a memory.

Now I have to mention that it wasn't much of a game. But after the game, we hoofed it back up Cumberland like a bunch of freaking locals, nonetheless. Because all is fair in love and college football.

[Nicolle would also like to mention as a sidenote that not even the 100k plus attendance could compare to a Big XII game. Her attendance at this game was mere entertainment, not fan loyalty.]

236/365

I guess this was the equivalent of stopping by my husband's "office" on the way home from "work" today. Oh, thank the Lord for the lives we lead...

235/365

Another hard day at work*.

*work: term used loosely

234/365

I will never tire of looking up at a restaurant and seeing our friend on tv. Go Ben! And Go Rays! (I know you're out there reading this, via your Safari bookmarks.) And Jules....come back soon.

233/365

You thought it was over? Think again. Since our last neighbor installment, things have gone from creepy to creepier. The sheriff and the landlord are making frequent visits to the property, asking us where they are, and if we've seen them. There has not been a light on in the house for about a month and a half. The cars have not moved. But the dogs are being fed, let out, etc. I don't know what they're hiding, but it is creepy. And I've become a creeper.

So when we spotted them in the driveway yesterday....I documented it. Just in case the sheriff or the yard guy or the landlord have further inquiries. I hope we have a real life Lifetime movie on our hands.

232/365

The holiday weekend came full circle with 80 people eating barbeque, smoking cigars and playing poker with Rocky Mountaintops in clear view. And, of course, me. Singing for my supper. Tonight I talked to three sharp-dressed men from Aspen about playing a piano on the streets of Breckenridge. They were fun. And I apparently inspired them to start an official tourism blog for Breck. It's probably a sin for me to have knowingly lead them to such a a tortured activity. Good luck, boys.

231/365

"Do you know you're exceptional?"

I was mid-casual-conversation with someone I really respect when I was blindsided by those words. I've been walking on air ever since. We don't have a clue as to how much power we have in our words, do we? They're like matches. They can light somebody's way or burn somebody down. I just hope that I don't waste my life keeping my belief in people to myself. Because too many times, one person's sentence has changed the trajectory of my life for the better. I wanna change the world one bit of encouragement at a time.

And just like this mentioned conversation, I'm sure Zoe (above) will never forget her VIP treatment by the PGB. Because just like one little bit of encouragement, one little kiss on the forehead can make a girl's world a whole lot brighter.

230/365

It started off with big sweatshirts and leggings and lattes down in the village. Then it was 3 chatterboxes in flannel shirts burning holes in our pockets in downtown Breckenridge. We told John Waite how much we loved his hair and then we hopped on the ski lift like a couple of 4th graders. It was in this moment that I thought to myself "this day can't get any better". Then my old boss called and said that Pat Green was cooking a big dinner for everybody back at the house. And, once again, the day got better.

You wouldn't think a beer-drinking, barefoot-singin', good old boy could whip together much more than a bologna sandwich. But life is full of surprises. Our day ended with baked tilapia, bacon-wrapped-asparagus, and some mystery pasta with a highly-caloric, yet highly-satisfying white sauce.

Why is any of this warranted as blog material? Because a day like this can so easily be forgotten. The food, the people, the music, the mountain air, the laughter. And I just want to know that there's the slightest chance that someday I'll be perusing ye old blog and something I just wrote will help me recognize what a lucky I was to have a day like this.

229/365

That John Denver knows what he's talkin about. I mean, my heart just breaks wide open when I get in the mountains. They make me feel small and powerful at the same. Small because I see something so big only the hand of God could create. Powerful because I know I'm something only the hand of God could create.

And as I sit here with a brisk breeze coming off the mountains and kissing me on the face, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Obviously because of the beauty, but also because of why I'm here. I was invited out by the old crew that I used to work with [before I was a full-time songwriter]. And I love them. They knew me when I was bouncing up and down the halls of William Morris in my running clothes and a messy ponytail. Back when I was just feeling my way through the everyday life of being a full-time college student and full-time employee. And now we have this unique bond that is hard to explain. Sometimes I'm like the daughter their boss never had. Sometimes I'm like their little sister. Sometimes I'm like an ex-employee. And maybe sometime I'll be their official client. But more than anything, they are dear friends.

The first night here at Copper Mountain we shut down Endo's, so we had to relocate to the OTHER (yes, there's only two) bar, Mulligan's. And, let me just tell you. There are some interesting folks here. Take Crystelle, for instance. A perfect stranger. Who basically volunteered her whole life story to us for no reason. It might be one of those "you had to be there" moments, but I'm pretty sure it was worth sharing. She basically told us how she was engaged. But from what we gathered, her so-called fiance doesn't even remember that he supposedly proposed in a drunken stupor from across the ocean.

Only in Colorado.