It's always by my side. In the car, on the stage, atop my kitchen counter, on the floor beside my hotel bed. It holds big bundles of my life. Dollar bills dumped out of my fishbowl tip jar for sorting and counting after a show's tear down, lip gloss and mascara, cell phone and keys, batteries and Band-aids, and extra guitar picks.

It began on the trip home from the Midwest CMO awards show in LaCrosse, WI, - that scratch in my throat and gunk in my nose that transforms a country singer’s tool of the trade into a vocal train wreck. I was sure I’d have this infection licked after a couple days of prednisone. The medicine carried me through a trip to my hometown and two songwriting classes for girls, but the next morning I knew there was no way I could sing my four-hour sets, two nights in a row, at the

But it was the pitchforks that brought me here. I was providing the background music for the Pitchfork Steak Fondue for six nights during my “Blame It On Where I Grew Up” tour. On this first night, I sang what I thought might be the crowd’s favorite country songs, along with a couple of my originals that, hopefully, will also become their favorites. More than 1,100 people chatted like old friends in line as they inched closer to the steak, skewered on a pitchfork

The Gull Lake Motel owner had texted me earlier, telling me the door was open and the key was inside. And that’s where I found it. The comfy and cute, rustic motel room in this Minnesota lakes area was my home for the second night of my “Blame It On Where I Grew Up” summer tour. A quick outfit change, then I was off to Quarterdeck Resort, where I found the perfect outdoor stage: plenty of room, lights, electrical outlets close by, and I could park and unload right behi