365/365

You have no idea how long I have longed to type in that heading. 365. And as I sit here on New Years day in my jammies (the same place I was last year when I entered day 1, I will honestly confess that no angels are singing and the heavens surely aren't rejoicing. But I am. If you are reading this, that means that you have stuck with me for a long time. And for that, I thank you. I have so much I want to say about these last 365 days, but to be quite honest, I need to take a week long sabbatical to catch my breath and remove myself from the hampster wheel known as The Flip Project. So for now, you're going to have to settle for this: I did it.

364/365

I've been in Gruver for 9 of the last 40 days (or something like that). I have hit my wall. Run out of simple activities, conversation, and quite simply methods of maintaining my sanity. It is in no way an insult to 79040 zip code, because I always walk away from that town with some new insight on something or another. But I have reached the point of flat-out boredom. Tonight we leave for the final leg of our holiday marathon. For the final leg of the roadtrip known as 2010 for that matter.

363/365

Our preacher, Pete Wilson, wrote in his blog the other day that there are only a few people he agrees with 100% and those people aren't interesting (or something to that affect). I've come to love colorful people in this short life I've lived. And I have to believe that if someone's personality appears to fit neatly in a box then maybe they're not truly being who they were made to be. Enter, one Walter Murrell. A VERY colorful individual who lives in Hansford County. And we spent an evening about 10 miles from a blacktop road in an old tin barn full of empty tequila bottles hanging from the ceiling by wire like dead soldiers. And then there's the wind. The kind that exceeds 30 miles and hour and shakes the room on all 5 sides. So we sat around a wood burning stove in the glow of some neon signs w/ the likes of Charlie Robison & Toby Keith blaring from a Bose speaker tonight. And I was delighted to better know Walter Murrell. The hippie rancher of Hansford County. He collects toy tractors. And escapes to Mexico at least once a year for his soul's revival. Quite frankly, he cracks me up. And quite frankly, I like him alot.

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?