90/365

I drove a minivan in high school. Repeat: I drove a minivan in high school. That's right. I rocked a white 1990 Mazda MPV for 2-and-a-half years. (Remember this info for a little later on.)

It was spring of my sophomore year of high school when Heather Hancock introduced me to a little band known as Vertical Horizon. At the time, I was a 90's country girl. I could sing every Dixie Chicks and Deana Carter song backwards in Spanish if you asked me to. But, my pop/rock music consumption was slim to none. That all changed the first time I heard the VH record. We wore that thing out in her brand new Jeep Wrangler driving back and forth between the high school and the Dairy Dump. Vanilla ice cream cones and a hot-off-the-press drivers license make for an intoxicating kind of freedom.

The "Everything You Want" record has since become the longest living record in my collection to date. And over the last 11 years it has turned into quite the summer fling. All winter it hybernates in my drivers side door just waiting for the perfect spring day with the perfect temperature. Today was that day. I dusted it off (literally). Actually, I had to wipe off some remnants of old granola bars that had fallen down in the case. But once I slid that sucker in the player, I escaped back to those first days of flying. I started thinking about how Heather had just moved to Sterling from New Mexico that year. And how she loved the Dixie Chicks like I did. And how she was one of the first people who encourage me to sing. And how she ended up being kind of crazy and punched my friend Brenna in the face one time (another day). Then...

No sooner than track 2, I pull into Sonic (which also reminds me of high school). And what to my wondering eyes should appear? A WHITE 1990 MAZDA MPV MINIVAN!!!! The perfect storm of a Mazda MPV with Vertical Horizon in my speakers while parked at Sonic created a nostalgic hurricane. That hand-me-down van will forever be a symbol of who I am. The first and only tank of gas my parents ever bought me. The modest upbringing I am so proud of. It will also be the visual trigger for a glory days' worth of memories I still wanna talk about today. And some that I'd rather not ;)

I could go on and on about all the portraits that flashed through my mind when I looked over to find that minivan today. But there isn't a blog entry long enough to explain what that van stands for in my eyes. All I know is that I experienced the trinity of "take-me-backs" today- SONIC meets VERTICAL HORIZON meets THE MPV. It was a good, good day.

89/365

Had a blast in Knoxville with a great group of girls tonight. Thankful. Thankful and sleepy. But mostly just thankful.

88/365

The man you see in that video is Rusty Gaston. He's Molly's songplugger. I love him. He exemplifies the word enthusiasm. And lucky for us, he is on our team. Had a great day of writing w/ @reedmolly (the line between Twitter and reality has become hazy).

You guys don't even know how close you came to seeing a little T-Swift cameo on day 88. She and I were using neighboring dressing rooms and shared a mirror at Urban Outfitters today. Just another day in Nashville. It took every ounce of my willpower to not ask her to say "day 88" in the camera. Instead, I opted to not look like a complete creep. If I had been anywhere other than Nashville, I would've done it in a heartbeat. But there's a certain courtesy that exists here for celebrities, and I very well intend to uphold it, thankyouverymuch.

87/365

Our neighbor got a smoker, so who better to try it out on than the Clawson's? It was a party on the patio. Our neighbor's patio. The combination of smoked pork loin, fireplace, a basketball game, and a clear view of the lake made for a LOVELY end to an awesome weekend. It was, in my opinion, the perfect balance of productivity (cleaned house/did all the laundry/Target run), social capital (bike ride w/ a friend, birthday party, movie date, pedicures w/ friend, party on the patio) & fun (starting a little spring shopping). On that note, remind me to get a spray tan before I go try on any more spring clothes. I think I wanna take everything back b/c I look so horrible right now. Arms and legs are pasty and flabby. But not flabby enough tostop me from indulging in the smoker delicacies tonight. Ooh la la.

86/365

For those of you who have always wondered what it would look like for the fire alarm to go off in the middle of your movie....I present to you...Cinema FAIL.

According to some recent twitter updates, a giant spark fell from the ceiling in the theatre playing "Hot Tub Time Machine". Oh dear.

85/365

A year ago, my friend Kristen had her second baby. Due to a nightmare's list of complications, Kristen died twice in the process of delivering that baby. Literally. I'm not talking about the "I thought I was going to die" stuff women say. I'm here to tell you that she literally and physically flatlined twice. I won't go into too many details because a) they're private and b) I'd probably mess them up anyway. But, the truth is this. Kristen was basically brought back to life the day her daughter was born. And it is one of the most remarkable stories I've ever heard.

Today Regan turned one. And as I watched her blow out the candles with her mommy and open presents with her mommy and dive headfirst into a cake with her mommy standing by, I couldn't help but get a little choked up. I said a silent prayer thanking God that that little girl wasn't celebrating her 1st birthday without her wonderful mom. And then I said a silent prayer thanking God for my mom. I wonder if Regan will ever really comprehend what her mom went through to bring her into this world. They are both miracles to me. And I can't help but wonder if I will ever comprehend what my mother has done for me in my life. From day one to today, she is in so many ways, my miracle. I know that's cheesy, but if you know our story, you'll understand that we almost weren't in each others lives either. (but that's another day...)

So here's to Kristen and Regan. And here's to a God who works miracles. Everyday.

84/365

We are completely saturated with music here in Nashville. Which makes it a little harder to recognize when an act is great. My songplugger describes it as eating a nice steak dinner every night for a few years. After awhile, it's hard to tell a great steak from an average one, because your relativities are all skewed. Well, enough about steaks. But I am in LOVE with this band Needtobreathe. By in love I really mean obsessed. They're not new by any means, just new to me.

Anyway, I was given their cd about a month ago, and it spread like wildfire through my life. I listen to it on my shuffle while I'm running (from front to back, not in a mix.). I listen to it in the bathroom while I'm doing my hair and makeup. I crank it up in the car on my way into town. All of that before 10:00 in the morning!

Got to see them play last night, and my obsession has gone to a new level. They have got the whole "lovable, humble rockstar" thing mastered. I was taking notes. One more thing: They're better than the record. I've never asked anything of my blog followers. Until now. Go buy their record on iTunes. You will not be sorry.

83/365

For those of you who don't know, my husband is a songwriter too. He's been doing it for a lot longer than me. And he's had a lot more success than me. (I have to believe the two are related...) From where I stand, I can't imagine ever getting jaded to hearing a song I wrote on the radio or in concert or on tv. But some people do. Apparently my husband isn't one of those people. The new Jason Aldean single, called "Crazytown" was written by he and Brett Jones. And we heard it on the radio for the first time today. It made me really happy to see him so happy. It's fun to have somebody to cheer for in life.

82/365

I guess this means that Nashville is the pot of gold?! It's not everyday you get such a BLATANT reminder of (like the song says) something beautiful. It's easy to miss the beauty in the things that are there everyday. Maybe that's why God made rainbows so inconsistent. Because He knew we'd take em for granted if they were in the sky 24/7. It was gorgeous reminder.

This week has been pretty slammed. Especially today. So it was pretty stinkin' awesome to look up and see THAT.

81/365

Today was officially the first VISIBLE sign of spring. We cracked the 70's, which constitutes a thorough car wash. Nothing better on a spring day than a drive in a shiny, well armor-all'd vehicle. Ahhh...

I didn't realize how much the dark and dreary, long winter weather was affecting me until I went for a run today. Holy cow. That feeling of sun on my face, running in shorts and a t-shirt (as opposed to the excessive layers that I've gotten used to the past few months) was glorious. I didn't even mind when the construction workers in the red F-350 about wrecked both truck and trailer while howling at me out the window. Ohhh, sweet Hermitage.

This week is really, really busy in my world. Hopefully the blog will not lack due my schedule. Love yall for hanging in there thru the less-than-epic days.

80/365

Can I get a collective cheer for the fact that Monday is behind us all? A little work, a little workout, a little studio, a little cocktail, a little birthday dinner. Nothing--i repeat NOTHING--to complain about. But something about today was a bit heavy to me.

The more I think about my career as an artist, the more I realize that it is truly a miracle at every turn. The birth of a single song to the development of a signature style; the breaking of an artist's career to the sustaining of an artist's career. It's nothing short of a phenomenon to me. Yep. That's all for tonight.

79/365

Going out on a Sunday night isn't the norm in this household. But, it was well worth it tonight. I watched 3 very young, very gifted, very gracious artists play at 3rd & Lindsley. No problem. Just another night in Nashville. But in any other city, I swear, it would be a TREASURE. I hope none of us take for granted the flood of giftedness we're all saturated with here.

I know I should probably be using this blog to pimp out my own music everyday. Unfortunately/Fortunately, I'm not that shameless. Unfortunately/Fortunately, I will always be a bigger fan of music in general than I am a promoter of myself. Therefore, I would like to present to you in the order they're playing: Andrew Ripp, Steve Moakler & (my personal fave--can't stop listening to his hookalicious, yummy record) Ben Rector. I am making it my personal mission to get in a writing room w/ him. If anyone can/would like to help me make that happen...you know where to find me. Any online networking site. Hook a girl up, Nashville. Prove to me this blog has some power ;)

78/365

As you can probably tell, we've gone mad. 3 days at the Guadalupe River leaves a girl in need of a little touch up in the pampering department. Made it home safe and sound just in time to see the Kansas Jayhawks fall hard. And a lonely night in Lawrence can only mean one thing...it's a madhouse in Manhattan! I have several cousins that have alot to celebrate. Please pray for all my crazy friends and family at KSU. Keep them safe in the arms of Aggieville. They know not what they do :)

I'd like to thank everybody so much for the sweet emails/texts/phone calls regarding my dad in the last day. Days like yesterday are truly the most rewarding part of doing this blog. I woke up to a slew of sweet messages that I know came from yesterday's entry. I love yall so much. Thank you. You should know that my dad is just fine. In fact, he instant messaged me last night (which is a big step in the technological direction for him). Maybe being out of commission for awhile will help his digital space knowledge. I can only hope :)

77/365

Legendary town. Legendary venue. Legendary night. They even played my favorite Haggard song, "Are The Good Times Really Over". Reminded me of some guitar pulls about 5 years ago out on Rebel Road. Ahhhhh...let me have a moment by myself and reminisce now....

Ok, I'm back. I've been down here on a writing trip that, in all honesty, hardly produced any writing whatsoever. But, here's the good news. I almost 2-stepped with a stranger for the helluvit tonight. I didn't, of course, because, well, I don't 2-step with strangers while I'm in another state as my husband. But, don't think that I didn't consider it just for the sake of the story. You don't go to a Dancehall and not dance! Gawwww!

On a sidenote, one of my friends that I'm on this writing trip with is engaged to a man 20 years older than her. And they met over 30 years ago when she was 20 and he was 40. You can imagine how much fun I've had watching them flirt with each other all day. It gets me thinking... ;)

76/365

There's a lyric in a Mat Kearney song that just gets me everytime. "We're all just one phone call from our knees." It's easily forgotten, but easily remembered when it happens.

I got a phone call last night that my dad had been in a bad accident and he was at the hospital. Stopped me in my tracks. Here I was in Austin, Texas at the South by Southwest festival all day--in what already seemed like somewhat of an alternate universe anyway--while my dad was in what could have been a life-threatening situation. Thank God it wasn't any worse than it was. (He's basically out of commission for 6 weeks, which is, in my opinion, NOTHIN' compared to how much worse it could have been.)

But the thing that really spoke to me was the frailty of life and the priorities I suppress to "do what I need to do". What if that phone call would have been the one that we live in fear of? The worst-case-scenario call. Would living in Nashville really be worth the things I'm chasing to miss out on all the time w/ my family that I am? Who knows. Because on one hand, God lead me to Nashville. And on the other one, I believe he'll lead me back to Kansas someday. It's just a matter of His timing and His will. But right now, I have to live with the consequences of being away.

And yesterday was one of them. My entire extended family (we're talking 7 big families-3 generations) showed up at my dad's side to give him support, give him love and give him hell. (mainly the last part.) Everyone. Everyone but me. And while my parents wish nothing more than for me to spread my wings, I'm the one that has to continually pay that price. The price of not being there when someone needs me. The price of not sharing meals together anymore. The price of not hearing the laughter or seeing the tears that come and go as the days pass. And I can't help but ask myself sometimes "what's it all for?" Songs? Music?

For now, I just trust that there's a purpose for this journey and thank GOD that my dad's okay. He sounded pretty awesome all doped up on Loratab this morning. Good luck, mom.

(www.myspace.com/caitlinrosesongs)

(www.myspace.com/waltwilkins)

75/365

The stars at night...(clap clap)...are big and bright...(clap clap clap clap)...deep in the heart of TEXAS. Reminds me of...(clap clap)...the one I love...(clap clap clap clap)..deep in the heart of TEXAS.

Must. go. write.

74/365

Why do I dust, vacuum, change sheets and do laundry before I travel? Because I'm a woman, that's why. I used to be so intrigued with my mom's desire to wreak havoc on the household before we would leave for vacation. And I guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.

Speaking of my mom, she was asked to give her testimony as part of this week's upcoming church service. I will spare you the time and details of her story, but you should know that it is a very powerful one. And since her story involves me, I was lucky enough to get to share my perspective on it today. I went into it thinking "no big deal. I'll speak from my heart for a few minutes." I'm not afraid of being in front of a camera, right? No more than 10 words into the thing do I start crying. Not just piddly little tears. But it became clear that I was going to have to just bawl for a while and then get the job done. For those of you in Sterling, get ready. I'm the ugliest crier you've ever seen.

I've got Parenthood rollin on DVR, bags packed, computer full of song ideas, and I'm ready to hit the road in the morning. I plan on making it my personal mission to keep Austin weird for the next 4 days. Adios.

73/365

Poor guy. My blogging habits have started to take a toll on my man. He has hit a wall. But you should know that he's partly kidding. He loves that I have "my thing". In fact, I have alot of "my things". And I think that's part of why we work so well. I think I'm like the kite and he's the one holding the string. He lets me fly (in terms of life, this means chasing dreams, building a career, doing projects, socializing). And then he's there to catch me when it's time to come down. Maybe I'm over-romanticizing it a bit. But as I think about it, I realize how lucky I am to be with someone who is secure enough to let me run with things.

Gotta go. Somebody deserves my undivided attention.

72/365

The doorbell rang about 5:00 this evening. We opened it to find our new neighbors with a pie! They reciprocated! I LOVE IT. I LOVE IT. I LOVE IT. Who would have thought this neighbor saga would go this far?

Alot on my mind tonight. I have some big decisions to make on the career front. Here's to whatever the future holds...may it be as sweet as blueberry pie.

71/365

And people think you're a redneck if you're from Kansas? I think not. Tennessee takes the cake.

70/365

Nights like tonight don't come around everyday. (Let that sentence soak in a bit before you move on...)

I went to a show at the Ryman tonight--thanks to some awesome hook-ups. And in one sitting saw an artist sing my husband's song ("Last Horse"/Randy Montana) and an artist sing my song ("Gone Like That"/Josh Kelley). Cool dot com. Given that it is 4:06 am I MUST keep this short. But I do want to mention that it's really really really really stinkin special to know that a song I got to be a part of creating was sung in the same spot as every country music legend this town has seen. And many more.

But here's another thing that I was more intrigued by tonight. Tonight's show was really a Lady Antebellum show, meaning they headlined. I've always felt that weddings and big birthday parties tell a story about the people they are honoring. The people that surround you paint a picture of what you stand for, believe in, live for. And the same was true tonight. I have never felt a more humble, hungry, loving, gracious feeling from a group of people as I did from the Lady A "entourage" tonight. By entourage I mean the 100 people who gathered for an after-party. Every single person was smiling. It says a lot about that band. Something else to aspire to.

69/365

Occasionally there's a night where for the whole evening I get the whole castle to myself. And since I'm a bloom-where-I'm-planted kinda girl, I make the most of it. It's so good for the soul to sit in silence--intermittently playing--and just listen. It's amazing how just one chord, or even one note, resonates and sounds so different at 11:00pm in the dark than it would at 11:00am in the daylight in a writing room.

Everything about music goes back to the piano for me. It started with a Casio keyboard underneath the tree on my 3rd Christmas. And through the years, the instrument has changed. An old upright missing keys to a less-old upright (that still lives in my parents living room and has NEVER been tuned to this day), to the brand new Yamaha baby grand at the Methodist Church, to the beat-up excuses for pianos in the practicing rooms at Belmont, to the keyboard I bought in college so i could play writers rounds. And now....thanks to my husband...my dream Yamaha in the living room. If it weren't for the piano, I would've never written songs. If I had never written songs, I would have never sung. If I had never sung, then, well...I don't know. But I guess that's the beauty of it. It all goes back to the keys. And tonight, I was reminded of how nice it was to just sit in my pj's, what felt like a million miles from Music Row, and just play for the love of it. I didn't try to be smart. I didn't try to be creative. I just played.

Now, don't get me wrong. I had my garage band and word document opened just in case God decided to bless me with something unique that was worth capturing. But, He didn't. Not tonight. But He will. Because He always has.

Speaking of playing, I ran upon the most lovely scene this afternoon on my run. (That sentence is very redundant.) Stereo cranked up, sitting inside the window sill facing the backyard. 1 little boy dancing on a trampoline. 2 boys playing baseball. The echo of the wooden bat as it cracks against the ball set to the soundtrack of laughter and birds chirping. I am in no way exaggerating when I say that I stopped and watched them through the trees about 20 yards away. If someone would've hit the ball in my direction, I would've been exposed as the neighborhood creeper. For about 2 seconds I was breathing in every bit of Spring that has sprung thus far. Then it set in that I miss my boys. Not my children, my brothers. Pretty soon I was thinking about how much I have yet to accomplish before I can completely checkout and move back to Kansas w/ my family. That got me thinking about the artist diet, so I starting running again. But, let me tell you something. For about 2 seconds, I convinced myself that my neighborhood was awesome. Which is it. But then I remembered that it will never be as awesome as Sterling. Nothing is.

68/365

It wasn't Fat Tuesday, but it was a fat Tuesday. You got me?

And the last thing you wanna do after a day of hiding from the mirrors and hitting the treadmill is go to a party like the one I went to tonight. Theme: small southern food. Well, let me say that there was nothing small about it. Other than my self-control, of course. I think as women, we are entitled to a day to loathe our ladylikeness (yes, I know that's not a word.). A day to ignore all things "you are beautiful on the inside" and "love who you are" and "one-of-a-kind". A day to wear comfortable, loose-fitting clothes, regardless of how flattering they may or may not be. A day to just feel sorry for ourselves. Is that really too much to ask? Who's with me?

As I am typing this, I just heard someone on tv say that a new study has proven that women who drink are less likely to be obese than women who don't drink. Well, in THAT case..... ;)

67/365

Totally sniped a portrait of a co-write as Miss Molly laid down a worktape of the song we wrote today.

Thank you for the talk today. You know why.

66/365

Maybe it's because my mom has always said that Sandra Bullock reminds her of me. Or maybe it's because she's just flat out awesome. But when she won Best Actress tonight, I was celebratin' like a fool. Here's why I think Sandra Bullock is the bomb:

She is sarcastic. (I am sarcastic.) She can hang with the boys. (I can hang with the boys.) She is a second wife. (I am a second wife.) She is well-spoken. (I am spoken too.) She is not politically correct (I am not politically correct.) She is brunette (My husband wants me to be a brunette.) She is 5'7 (I am only a few inches taller than 5'7".) She has made more than 30 movies. (I have watched more than 30 movies.)

Ok, ok, so we're not exactly alike. But here's why it wouldn't be a bad idea to be like her. Sandra Bullock has the grace to laugh at herself, guts to laugh at others, and the tenderness to cry tears of joy when she speaks of the ones she loves. She has the independence to speak her mind, but the femininity to let her husband wear the pants. She has the grit to work hard to build a career, but the humility to never expect accolades for what she has built. She has the body to wear a slammin Oscar dress, but the security to wear a ponytail on Oprah. I love this woman. And as I embark on a future career that may or may not involve media, I consider her a good study in strong womanhood. I aspire to be all these things.

I think it's easy for me to forget that being feminine comes in many colors. And it's more than just pink. I sometimes struggle with the fact that by nature, I am sarcastic, wanna hang with the guys, wanna wear a ponytail, work my tail off, and speak my mind. Watching Sandra Bullock joke about kissing another woman and then tearing up while speaking of her husband, I was reminded that I need to get back to who I am. If Sandra doesn't need to apologize for who she was made to be, then neither do I.

65/365

8 years ago, a couple of carfulls of college freshman girls headed to some lake somewhere in Georgia to spend the weekend with Betsy's Aunt Loopy. That's what she wanted for her birthday. A weekend with her friends and her aunt. Little did we know, that weekend was the start of something much bigger than a getaway. It was the start of a tradition that is still very much alive.

Over the years, our conversation have evolved from the growing pains of freshman to the growing pains of wives and mothers. The food consumption has evolved from gorging ourselves with carbs and sweets to bird-like munching and a little wine. But a few things haven't changed at all. Always pajama attire. Always no makeup. Always tears. Always late, late, late nights. And ALWAYS lots of love.

Loopy weekend is a reminder of how some things change and some things stay the same. And I am thankful for both.

Here's to Loopy Weekend in St. Lucia in 2014... :)

64/365

8th Annual Loopy Weekend underway! Can't update right now. Time is precious here at Aunt Loopy's bungalow. Lots of food, talking, crying, laughing, analyzing, drinking still yet to do. Will touch base tomorrow. Wish you could be here. (not really.)

63/365

Fun night of music with Eric Paslay & Brent Anderson. I love them alot. It's such an honor to call them my peers. I respect them both musically and in character. The days that I look on my calendar and see either of their names are good days. When I first started writing songs, I never even dreamed that I would get to work with musicians of their caliber. I'm flattered when I look over and see them playing their guitars or singing the way they do, and I think to myself "you write with me?!"

Just for the record, Thiele is on a feat to have more appearances in the Flip Project than anyone this year. So lets give him a round of applause for another stunning cameo. I had ZERO creative control of this footage.

62/365

Studio: Part 2.

on to bgv's. (that stands for background vocals...)

61/365

Studio: Part 1

Hopefully the soon-to-come new music will compensate for the a) delay in posts and b) lack of text. Must rest now.

60/365

3 co-writes in 1 day=1 desperate drive-thru run. Good night.

59/365

It was a good decade. They were the years of Lunchables and Bubble Tape; Saved By The Bell & Step By Step; The Karate Kid & Fried Green Tomatoes. AND LOTS OF GREAT MUSIC. To most, the 90's are known to most as the worst decade of music in history. But to some of us, those were the glory days. The songs we kissed to, danced to, rode the bus to.

HAPPY B-DAY BETSY BOYER...90's style!