[ -- Fall 2008 Tour -- ] :: Sep 30th, 2008, 1:25pm We're now updating our Journal here, at www.ellerymusic.blogspot.com, where you can comment on posts, subscribe via RSS feed, etc etc... Check it out!     September 26th, 2008 "Home"   It has to sound ridiculous, but the last couple days of this tour were, for us, a lovely dream of a time. We fell into a hotel in Eau Claire on the night of the 23rd, and tried to sleep in as late as we could before driving up to Duluth. (We were going to need that sleep!) We left the hotel at 3pm for our show at the Univ. of MN-Duluth, a campus that has always been so supportive and welcoming to us. It was another lovely evening with the fabulous Dave Mehling opening, and a kind and attentive audience in the very cool Rafters venue. (Special thanks to Paul and Christina for setting us up!)   We took off from Duluth a bit after midnight (EST) to head back for our hotel in Eau Claire... We greeted the front desk manager at 3am and said goodbye to him again at 6am... He was kind enough to grab Justin a couple bagels and send us on our way with a few tired-but-kind words. :)   And so we were headed home. Driving down 53 and then I-94, heading south and vaguely toward Rockford IL, watching the sun rise to our left in a grand orchestra of a morning which, as it always always does (dangit), lulled me right to sleep. Justin was left on his own, as he knew he would be, with Terry Gross to keep him company. We headed into IL and stopped at the first Oasis for the inevitably regular and necessary break, and for the inevitable and necessary Starbucks. (But we'll have you know it's always decaf... It's the ritual of coffee; not the caffeine -- And it's such a beautiful thing.) :) It'd been a while since we'd had coffee -- (Tom, that Peet's Coffee was so awesome!) -- So this made our morning, and enlivened the drive through Chicago.   Which, as on our way Tuesday, went mostly-smoothly, no complaints. (And praises for the nearly-done construction!! How many years has it been?!) :)   Heading down I-65 was surreal as it almost always is... The re-entering of home-like territory, the well-worn paths that Indiana's highways are for us. It's a 10+ hour drive from Eau Claire to Covington KY (where our show was last night), and we were ecstatic to have somehow arrived 15 minutes ahead of our goal-time. Oh the glories.   And at The Carnegie no less, for the close of our tour... This venue/theater that we've grown to love so much, the place where we filmed An Evening with Ellery last year, and with which we feel so much personal connection for several other surprisingly emotional reasons. And we were opening for the stunningly kind and talented Dar Williams, such a gift... So we got to stretch our legs for a while as we listened in on her soundcheck before our own setup, etc.   We expected Dar to be the beautiful performer that she is, but we couldn't have predicted her kindness, or that of her tourmates... It was such a lovely encounter -- So many thanks to all of you for allowing us to share the evening. And to John Magus, Jon Sheperd, Bleu Penwell, and the many others who made our homecoming such a memorable, gentle evening.   I'm so happy to say that our hometown just never disappoints. SUCH a beautiful audience; so open and supportive -- It's always such an amazing thing to play in our city. Thank you thank you for listening, and for your graciousness; we feel so honored to call Cincinnati home.   "And After"   As the evening died down, we left our instruments on stage and took off for the night... Heading down I-75 and oh, finally to the exit that takes us home, and to our Kroger (milk! toilet paper! cereal!) -- and down our driveway. We were greeted by our kind neighbor who had gathered our mail, and who informed us that during the crazy windstorm that wailed its way through the Midwest last week, our neighborhood was without power for 3-4 days.   Good to know... We walked into our backdoor to a strange-ish smell and to the tasks of wiping up the stained "something-melted-and-dripped-here" spots on the floor, and of course emptying our fridge and freezer. Hmm, we're happy to have great neighbors; we'd have totally eaten some of that.   We fell into bed in two funny lumps of exhaustion--   We woke this morning and prepared to head back to The Carnegie. Now this is a beautiful gift: Once we booked the show with Dar, I realized that we'd be in town for Covington's Day of Peace: an event presented by the Women's Crisis Center of Northern Kentucky, (with whom I've had the honor of doing volunteer training/etc), as well as by the Family Nurturing Center).   The Day of Peace is an event organized each year as part of a national movement each October, whose aim is to educate the public about domestic violence, to encourage survivors and their families, and to keep women and girls safe from violence.   When I realized we'd be in town, I emailed my volunteer coordinator to say we'd be there. And it just happened that this year's event coordinator had been unable to reach her planned musicians for weeks... My contact there knew that I had this song I'd wanted to share with women in domestic violence situations (You Did Everything Right), and so long story short: we wound up performing an opening and closing song for the event. It couldn't have been a more ideal situation; we were in the same venue the night before, we had the same awesome sound person (Bleu--Thank you!), and best of all: I was finally able to connect this issue that is deeply moving to me with both the song I wrote and the organization I've come to work with and admire here in my own city.  So what an honor, oh my gosh -- What an amazing thing to come home to.   The mayor of Covington spoke, as well as the Secretary of State-- so, so good to see their support. But Justin and I were most honored and inspired to hear from two survivors of abuse, these brave and powerful women who have chosen to use their experience to reach out to communities across the country and to children and adults who may be in similar situations. They were so strong and compelling, so beautiful --   About half of the audience was high school students-- including a large group of guys from a local boys' catholic high school. It was so inspiring to see all of the students there: Seeing young women absorbing information and statistics, being reminded of their value and potential, their rights, the warning signs, all of it. And to see high school students witnessing these survivors, these inspiring women, and hearing their stories... Being prodded (along with the rest of us) to take responsibility on some level, to realize our capacities to make a difference with this issue: beginning with ourselves and extending outward --   Anyway, we came home with full hearts, to the place we call home, which sits now in the midst of the first fallen leaves, with its beloved creaking wooden floors, our luggage spilled out across its living room... And we put ourselves to bed. Welcome home Justin. :)     September 23rd, 2008 "Writing"   We spent some time this evening with Ben Folds' Rockin the Suburbs... It's been a long time since we've listened to the album as a whole. (Although, to be fair, we began our album-listening with Still Fighting It rather than Zak and Sara) -- Anyway, this album is (and has long been) on our list of top 5 records; it was so good to be reminded of the myriad reasons why.   Ben Folds is a master of melodies that are incurably catchy but somehow original, interesting, surprising... And in his uniquely Ben-Folds way he communicates these heart-breaking stories and truths, all of them sliding about on music ranging from ridiculous to intensely emotional, and often both at the same time.     So I'm reminded what it is that I love in songwriting, or any writing for that matter, which is the sense that the writer has truly seen something for what it is, for more than what it often lets on to be, or more than we'd like to think it is. Patty Griffin is a master of such a thing, Emily Dickinson certainly, Carl Sandburg, Rilke, Frederick Buechner, Kahlil Gibran, Kathleen Norris, and oh so many others, their words cutting to the heart of something we see only in our best moments.     Not that I would group these writers and authors together, or consider them equal; there's simply no need to; there's no such thing as equal. It's just that what they do coincides for me in this way: this striking element of their writing(s) that speaks so deeply to me every time, that binds these artists together under the heading of "What Tasha Loves."   And so I was particularly struck (yet again) by Ben Folds' Fred Jones Part 2:   There was no party, there were no songs 'Cause today's just a day like the day that he started No one is left here who knows his first name And life barrels on like a runaway train Where the passengers change but they don't change anything You get off; someone else can get on And I'm sorry Mr. Jones; it's time... He's forgotten but not yet gone...   And then Patty Griffin, whose Impossible Dream we played for a while as we drove into Akron Sunday night:   Something as simple as boys and girls Gets tossed all around and lost in the world Something as hard as a prayer on your back Can wait a long time for an answer...   or   I wished I was smarter Wished I was stronger I wished I loved Jesus The way my wife does I wished it'd been easier Instead of any longer I wished I could've stood where you would've been proud That won't happen now; that won't happen now --   And Emily Dickinson:   As old as woe - How old is that? Some eighteen thousand years - As old as Bliss How old is that They are of equal years   Together chiefest they are found But seldom side by side From neither of them tho' he try Can Human nature hide   Sandburg (whose Mag I barely get through on some days) --   Mag     I wish to God I never saw you, Mag. I wish you never quit your job and came along with me. I wish we never bought a license and a white dress For you to get married in the day we ran off to a minister And told him we would love each other and take care of each other Always and always long as the sun and the rain lasts anywhere. Yes, I'm wishing now you lived somewhere away from here And I was a bum on the bumpers a thousand miles away dead broke.   I wish the kids had never come And rent and coal and clothes to pay for And a grocery man calling for cash, Every day cash for beans and prunes. I wish to God I never saw you, Mag. I wish to God the kids had never come.   Kahlil:   People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are eternity and you are the mirror.   Buechner:   Another time when I was on my knees at night between my cell and Wear, I thought I saw a slender shadow stir. If it was Burcwen, though, she never came. In winter when the snow and ice were fierce, we shook beneath our different roofs alone, and that's what Hell is like, I think. It's cold and shame and shaking. And worst of all, it's loneliness.   -- From Godric   Rilke:   No one lives his life.     Disguised since childhood, haphazardly assembled from voices and fears and little pleasures, we come of age as masks.   Our true face never speaks.   Somewhere there must be storehouses where all these lives are laid away like suits of armor or old carriages or clothes hanging limply on the walls.   Maybe all paths lead there, to the repository of unlived things.   --From Book of Hours   and finally, Kathleen Norris:         Today, we are baptizing our little nephew. He's seven months old, chubby, thoroughly healthy. Ever since we came here for Christmas, I've listened for him in the morning. Like the birds, he begins to sing at first light, and together, they make the most joyous music - the baby, the birds - cooing and calling, as if life depended on it. We've planned the ceremony for late in the afternoon of Epiphany, at home, after our two ministers - my brother (Disciples of Christ) and his wife (Episcopalian) have returned from their church duties.       The baby's tired and cranky, he has no way of knowing that we are passing through hell. We renounce the forces of evil, and he cries out. As the godmother, I am holding him, and he's fussy, squirming; I have to hold on tight:       Our words wash over you, and you brush them away. The candle catches your eye, your mother's hair and fingers transparent in its light. You want the candle, you want the food your mother has become for you, you want to go down into this night at her breast. Poor little baby, water on your hair, chrism on your forehead, dried milk on your chin. Poor, dear little baby; hold on. -- From The Cloister Walk     September 23rd, 2008 "Westward"   From Harrisburg on Saturday we made our way to Akron OH, where we were able to connect with family and experience the beginnings of Autumn... (It came quietly under the doors this year; we awoke today and realized we'd missed that celebratory first day. Nevertheless: Welcome, Autumn; how we missed you--)   We replenished our podcasts before heading out for Kalamazoo-- And as it was Monday morning, there were new episodes of our favorites (drumroll for the exposure of us as continuing npr junkies)... This American Life and Wait Wait Don't Tell Me. We were distracted enough by the greatness that we missed our first turnoff from I-77 and landed in Cleveland, taking 480 back over to the turnpike. (This means oh so little to non-NW-Ohioans.) (It was only like 8 miles; never fear.)   Justin got rather sick on the way, and we spent a great deal of time at an exit off the turnpike trying to get him feeling better, and so we're terribly fortunate that the folks at K College were so kind and patient. Very very special thanks to Kate and to Danielle for your compassion and help with our rushed load-in... And we had a great time at the college show. It was the first day of classes and the inaugural musical event in their new Student Center, so we were honored to share an evening and chat with some of K's fine students... And how restful to spend the evening at The Hall House, a nearby bed and breakfast. Such a treat--   Today we took off for the long trip to Eau Claire WI. (Today and Thursday are massive driving days for us, so we've settled in to the idea of massive time for good conversation, listening to music, and making moments for every podcast ever made.) :)   It was a stunning day for driving; the weather is amazing, SO fall-in-the-midwest... The skies were blue with wispy clouds, and the breeze was blowing... Chicago was brilliant; its traffic nearly effortless (oh the wonder!) -- And then driving through Wisconsin, as many of you know, is one of our favorite things in the world. There are few landscapes so endlessly breathtaking... Which is perhaps unexpected to many of you, but it does remain one of our favorites, connecting with something deep in our bones.   Hello Midwest, your Autumn settling light on our skin.     September 20th, 2008 "Wrapping Up the East Coast"   We stayed last night with friends up in Nyack NY, which is utterly beautiful (so many thanks to Carrie!)... A large and open, lovely and restful place with dogs and a cat... (Have we mentioned our nearly-pathetic love of animals?) -- And I was able to jog this morning toward the mountains, which was so inspiring.     After a home-cooked breakfast (awesome!) we made our way toward Philadelphia, with a stop at Classic FM for a interview and in-studio performance with Gene Godfrey, who's been a great support in the Philadelphia area... You can hear Ellery on Classic FM on Sunday, September 28th, between 11am and 2pm -- This live webcast is at www.z889.org.   So... Okay, Justin is terribly excited: After our time at the studio, we stopped downtown and met a couple severely talented and intelligent folks who've invented a musical-instrument-slash-hardware-controller. We had some coffee and tea with them and, curiously, :) we left with one of their incredible inventions. This device will remain a mystery to me for a while, and therefore to all of you as well. But Justin is one happy and inspired musician right now.   Afterwards, we made the short jaunt over to Ardmore, a lovely little town two miles outside of the city, and the home of Milkboy Studios and Milkboy Coffee. It's been far too long since we played in Philadelphia (2006), and we've been so excited about closing our east coast run in this fine city. This was our first time at MilkBoy, and it's absolutely a fabulous listening room: Great vibe, amazing food (check out that menu!!), ridiculously kind folks (thanks so much to Tommy and Joel), and we were sharing the evening with Chris and Thomas, who were not only crazy-talented but genuinely lovely people.   Not to mention the wonderful, wonderful audience... (Thanks so much for making our Philadelphia return so beautiful; we'll be back soon!)     Our thanks again to WYBE, which has been such an enormous support by airing "An Evening with Ellery" so many times in the last year... And to Gene Godfrey, and to Kyler England, who is one of the loveliest artists out there and who we've deeply missed these last few nights.   (To those of you in CT, NYC, and Philly, check Kyler out at www.kylerengland.com!)   Tonight we're on the turnpike heading west... Monday's show is in Kalamazoo MI, so we're getting a head start, and it's beautiful outside.   The night is thickly dark, traffic is light, and we'll be in Harrisburg soon --     September 19th, 2008 "Connecticut and NYC"   On Thurs the 18th we traveled from the Boston area down to Bridgeport CT for our first show in the area. As luck would have it, a favorite author of mine (Kathleen Norris) was speaking and book-signing right across town in Fairfield, at the same time we were doing our soundcheck. Darn darn darn.     We'd of course never been to Acoustic Cafe, but several of our friends and favorites have played there, so we were looking forward to it -- And to meeting Victoria Vox, who was headlining the evening. Kyler came down with a terrible cold over the night before, and was unable to sing -- (So, so sad not to share these last few shows with her!) -- But we're thankful that she's getting some rest, and we're thankful for a our Bridgeport audience and a great venue (special thanks to William and Darian).   After hearing a lovely set from Victoria and chatting for a while, we rushed for our hotel -- hoping to rest up for the day in New York today... (Driving into the city is always an adventure. Although, to our great delight, driving to The Living Room isn't nearly as messy as the driving to some of the other venues we've played in town... So -- Bonus.) :)   We got into the city early enough to get some great parking (oh the beauty of such a thing), and to head uptown to connect with an engineer whose work we've admired for a long time. It was a short visit, but inspiring and so kind --   And our friend Paul had recommended The Creperie a few doors down from The Living Room... We walked right by it on our way back from the subway, and it was definitely dinnertime... So have a crepe we did, and it was extraordinary. I had the Veggie Crepe, with eggplant, squash, red pepper, and ricotta... Amazing. We'd heard that the crepes were large, so we decided to share one, but it disappeared way too fast. Next time I get my own. :)   Afterwards, at The Living Room, we were treated to wonderful sound (thanks to the venue's fabulous gear, and to Steve...) -- And I was thoroughly delighted to see a few friends from yoga teacher training (shout out to you guys; so amazing to see you -- And those of you in Boston too; such a gift) --   We've loved The Living Room since our first show there in 2005, and we've been excited to make our way back again. Such a romantic room, stunning sound, kind staff (which, when you're doing this night after night, counts for so much) -- And such a great listening environment. We had a lovely crowd too, which makes any show feel so much like home: like it's Where We Should Be.       September 18th, 2008 "Up the Coast"   On Monday we woke early and set off for the drive from Chantilly VA to just south of Boston. It's a (mostly) beautiful 9-hour drive through several major cities, the experience of which never seems to get old for us. We had plenty of great music and podcasts, and an immensely beautiful day for driving... About 75 degrees, clear and cloudless, breezy, amazing.     We arrived at our respite of a place that night, this home just south of Boston, with enough time to settle in, have a beautiful dinner (oh vegetables -- how we've missed you!), and watch an episode of "This American Life," which we'd never seen before. (I'm sure you've caught on that we have a serious crush on the radio show. I now have a serious crush on the TV version. All of it is so great; really, can there be too much Ira Glass in the world? And where did he get those awesome glasses?)   So we're enormously, ridiculously blessed with this temporary home on the water: overlooking the marsh and off into the Atlantic. At high tide it's all one big body of water; at low tide the marsh becomes a labyrinth with walls 10 feet tall -- dark muddy paths cutting through the weeds. And at any time, out the windows of this amazing room, the view goes on forever -- The back lawn, the dock, the marsh, the crashing waves, the island, the atlantic, the horizon.   There is no comparable gift.   The last time we were here, we arrived after a couple high-stress days, one which involved arriving in Harvard Square during OktoberFest and nearly missing our Club Passim show because all the streets were blocked. (An experience which is much more palatable now that it's over.) :)   But arriving here after that show was an immediate balm: The suddenly-deeper breaths, the salty air, the monumental breezes, the waving trees and bushes, the rippling water, the tide's slow and reliable ebb and flow, the seagulls and herons flying effortlessly, broadly, lighting and watching for fish, all of it un-self-consciously, being what they are and doing what they do in a testament to life-as-it-should-be.   And so it's been the same kind of healing respite this time around, perhaps even more poignantly.   The air is cool (60 degrees right now), the windows are open to the sea-salt air and the sound of the wind, you can hear the Atlantic waves crashing from far off, and every now and then the seagulls fly up and around to a new spot on the neighbor's dock.     Yesterday it was bright and sunny, utterly beautiful, and Justin was able to take the kayak out again--   I stayed in and did what I'm prone to do in these situations, which is to work like crazy until I forget the beautiful place I'm in. But my workaholism is a work in progress (of course), :) and I'm doing what I can with a little help from beautiful books (Kathleen Norris, Rilke), from runs along the water and through the charming town nearby, and from, obviously, Ira Glass. :)   Last night we played Toad in Cambridge; we opened the show followed by Kyler and then Kristin Cifelli, who sounded truly stunning with her band (and a new song called Fault Line that we're anxious for her to record)...   Toad is a very small, very "cozy" place... It was a bit of a sardines scenario last night -- Everyone pressed and packed in, loud and buzzing with a crammed kind of energy. Definitely a new experience for the Goldens! But very fun; so many great folks and a truly great crowd... So, so good to see new and familiar faces and, as always, to hear great music from Kyler and from Kristin. We've decided that we love the Boston area; such a beautiful and bustling little city, so much going on, an amazing pocket of great music artists--   Finding our way back to this home last night proved to be more interesting than we bargained for. And you know, VZ Navigator is great but I'm not sure it knows where we are right now. It sent us in a couple circles last night, which thankfully were very small... But the Navigator, (and the terrible voice she has on our phone!) -- They were both confused. :) Luckily, we spotted a couple things we recognized before we spent too much time wandering the narrow wooded roads around us.     And coming in last night, we had to open the screen door and listen to the wind and waves, smell the air-- We're hoping when we drive off today we'll take some of its magic with us.     September 14th, 2008 "IOTA and Assorted Adventures"   We found ourselves today in Arlington VA, the DC-area-- A short trip from Charlottesville, which was great.   We got to spend some time with Justin's family, which is always such a gift... So we were able to catch up with family, with SNL, with the Redskins game... And we also got to check out the unusually awesome treats at Java Jones in nearby Ashburn.   And, we were delighted to encounter IOTA tonight for the first time. We've heard so much about the venue from fellow artists and some friends and fans in the area, and it proved to be a lovely home to us for the evening. Stella Schindler opened the show, followed by Kyler's set and the sitting-in-on-it that we've come to really love on this tour. Ellery closed the evening, and it was an honor to play for such wonderful listeners so late on a Sunday night -- (Thank you guys for spending the evening with us; we'll be back soon!) Also, many thanks to Steve Negrey and Burns, and to Sophie -- who were all so lovely and made us feel at home.   As the evening slowed down, I began packing up our gear while Justin left to fetch our van from the local garage.   Such things (parking garages, double-parking to unload or load gear, van-fetching, etc) have always been rather interesting endeavors in large cities; there are plenty of adventures to be had. But we'd never had this one:   When Justin arrived at the garage (with a ride from his uncle; thankfully!)-- It was closed and locked, and our forlorn van was somewhere deep inside the dark abyss.   Back at IOTA, I was wondering what the heck someone does when his van is locked inside a garage. Perhaps he sleeps outside of it and waits until morning. Or maybe he busts through the garage's lowered security arms, and gets a hefty fine. Hmm.   What ended up happening was something Justin chalks up to mysterious personal victory... He walked around the garage, found an opening, squeezed himself in, found our van, and then drove it round and round to where an attendant was hanging out at an entrance. Somehow, they thought he was trying to get INTO the garage (wasn't he facing the wrong way though?) -- So they told him that the garage was closed and that he couldn't park there.   And you know -- that was okay, because he didn't want to park there at all!   So, he smiled and said no worries and left the garage on his merry way.   What the heck; how does that happen? He's certain he's owed some french fries for this stunning work.     September 13th, 2008 "Virginia"   We made the long drive yesterday from Knoxville to Norfolk VA, for our first show in the area in a few years. Along the way we were sad to have yet again reached the end of our podcasts, and eastern Virginia had a shocking abyss on the dial where an NPR station should be. But, what was lacking in good listening material was compensated by the landscape of Virginia, and especially by the I-64 tunnel (which we love), that led us under the Atlantic water and back up again into the city of Norfolk.   It was dark by the time we pulled up to The Boot, a romantic restaurant and bar with a great vibe and incredible food. We got to relax for a little while before setting up and meeting the very fun and talented Sarah Carter, who opened the show tonight, brought a great crowd out, and made us feel so at home with her hometown. :)   This morning began of course with news about Ike's encounter with southern Texas -- Please go to redcross.org to make a donation for efforts to assist its work among victims left in Ike's wake --   We arrived in Charlottesville VA today with enough time to walk along the very cool Downtown Mall, a walking street lined with great shops, cafes, restaurants, and beautiful trees. Very much like Church Street in Burlington VT, but more trees and less Lake Champlain.     Our show tonight at Gravity Lounge was part of a lineup of artists organized to celebrate the 2nd Birthday for 106.1 The Corner, a great Charlottesville radio station. We were enormously happy to reconnect with Gravity Lounge, and with Brad Savage of 106.1, who we originally met in Ann Arbor during our Lying Awake release tour.     Our last show at Gravity Lounge was in 2006 with Lucy Kaplansky... It was one of the shows we recorded with hopes of including a track or two on the live CD that came out in 2007 ("What I've Said Out Loud"). And Gravity Lounge was where Justin totally knocked his head on his microphone (with great gusto, btw) during the very quiet and intimate beginning of the song "Arizona."   (You can listen to his awesome gaffe on our Media Player; it's listed under "Blooper.")   So -- I was wondering if we might see a repeat performance from him at the show tonight, and I was at least somewhat satisfied with the accidental crashing of the neck of his guitar into the cymbal on the drum set behind us. (Not nearly as dramatic as the mic-beaming, but it'll do for a sense of pattern.)   A trio of Charlottesville singer/songwriters opened the show with an in-the-round set, and after Ellery was Alberta Cross, playing their first show in the region after spending time in Charlottesville recording their next record. (They were truly great; they just signed with Red Light Management and they'll be opening for Oasis in Europe later this Fall.)   Our huge thanks to Bill and Gravity Lounge, to 106.1 The Corner, and to Brad Savage for having us... And to Mariana, Joia, and Helen, to Alberta Cross, and to The Hill and Wood for sharing the evening with us.   And yet more thanks to the chef at Gravity Lounge for making what Justin has officially named "The Best Food He's Had All Year." (For Charlottesvile-ians, he heartily recommends the fajita chicken wrap.) :)     September 11th, 2008 "Middle of Nowhere"   Coming in from Nashville, we drove up the long driveway outside of Knoxville at 3:30am -- met by a dog we've come to love by the name of "Wolf," who is (appropriately) 25% wolf, mixed with German Shepherd. He's a beautiful, enormous, and enormously well-behaved dog who sauntered up to make sure we didn't meant any trouble for this mountain-top (gloriously) middle-of-nowhere homestead... And then he affectionally leaned into Justin and happily accepted our excited greetings. Wolf is the kind of dog that knows his masters' horses by name and can fetch them when necessary. He's ridiculously perceptive and loyal, and intelligent in a way that's almost unnerving. The kind of friend you like to have in the middle of the night on a mountain in the middle of nowhere in eastern Tennessee. :)   We're staying here with my aunt and uncle, two beautiful and loving folks who love animals almost as much as we do. (They also have a 1-year-old puppy who's beginning to take things over there on their mountain; she's 80% wolf and -- beautiful. Our camera's battery was down for the count during our visit, but we're going to have to snag some photos sometime...)   Anyway, when we woke up mid-morning it was a beautiful (if muggy) eastern TN day, and we got to spend it with great conversation, great food... and Justin was lured into a Rock Band challenge, which was hilarious. (I don't think Justin won.)   Being out here is enthralling, especially for us city kids. We're surrounded by sky and thick trees, and a thick silence which, after a while, reveals itself to be a symphony of forest sounds -- Along with the neighing of their horses, the baying of Ulysses the donkey from down the hill, the peacocks and rooster, the seemingly infinite variety of birds, the breeze through the trees, the far-off and unidentifiable animal sounds echoing from the surrounding mountains.   As I settled into the Summer quiet this afternoon out on the deck, I heard what then seemed a loud and steady hum nearby. It was a hummingbird, flitting closer and closer to me while I sat utterly still... Closer until I could feel the air from the beat of its wings. I was afraid it was going to light on me (which yes, in retrospect, is kind of funny) -- So I had to move a bit and scare her off. But what an amazing little gift. (That, and the opportunity to chat it up for a while with one of my aunt's horses...) Oh I am so city, but if that allows this all to be received so gratefully I'll take it.   And while I'm at it, can I take a moment to say how awesome my family is? They're so awesome. My aunt and uncle here in Tennessee... (They created space this evening for us all to take time to talk about this day seven years ago: Where we were, how the news came to us, how we and our families handled it, how deeply it impacted us. I think it that time tonight meant a lot more to Justin and I than I would have even expected.) So we're grateful grateful grateful for them, and also for my immediate family spread about in Ohio and Indiana, and Justin's family around the midwest and the east coast... We're two lucky folks, and we only see it more and more the more we travel.   Okay so in addition, while I'm feeling rather in love with the universe: The campaign season can seem so divisive and sad, with the seeming gulf between one party and another, and those who support each -- But the more we travel, the more we see how incredible people are, how well-intending and gracious, how generous and hopeful, how active and community-oriented... regardless of who they're voting for. This has been incredibly beautiful to see, particularly in this season... I'm not pulling this out of that "I'm-an-optimistic-artist" kind of place, because anyone who knows me well knows I'm not an optimist. (I tend to expect the worst and then downgrade my expectations from there.) :)   But I've seen a lot of beauty, community, and general Goodness in people from whom I thought I was very different. I've felt like I wanted to take notes for myself, to keep on-hand for worse days... So. Noted.     September 10th, 2008 "Nashville"   So... Confession. We haven't always held a fondness for Nashville... We'd had some truly beautiful experiences there, but we'd also had a couple rough encounters back in the day that left us thinking that maybe Nashville wasn't the kindest place for musicians.   (Will I lose my musician license for saying this?)   But I'm happy to say that our minds are changing -- :)   In recent trips it's certainly growing on us... Such a wonderful songwriter community and so many great venues... And the city itself feels small and tight-knit in a way that makes you want to stop back by again soon.   After running errands, we encountered one of the best things that can happen when we're in the Nashville area: We went to Barbara's Home Cookin' (in Franklin) for a late lunch. Oh the goodness... Rolls that weigh like 10lbs each, incredible vegetables, true southern home cooking, right in Barbara's house... The kind of meal you eat and then wait a couple days before eating again. :)   From Barbara's we made our way to rehearsal with Kyler; she played a showcase tonight at 12th and Porter as part of Next Big Nashville, which is going on this week in town. (We're a little disappointed that we don't have more time here; so many great folks to see this week -- so much great music!)   (Our enormous thanks to Kathy and Mary for your kindness and rehearsal space... (Tell Theo we said hey)) :)   When we arrived at 12th and Porter, we were entirely surprised to see artists Derek Webb and Sandra McCracken on stage; their showcase was directly before Kyler's, and it was definitely a unexpected treat. They were fabulous as always; such great songs --   Once we left the venue, we did that definitively on-the-road thing, where we found free wifi and got directions and sent our newsletter from the inside of our van in a gas station parking lot. Oh the glamour. It's 11:30pm and we're off now to see family in the Knoxville area... It's a clear dark night, and we'll lose an hour heading back east... Here's to late-night safe travels.     September 9th, 2008 "The New News"   Today we had to take off early for the drive to Nashville-- So while checking our emails and gathering directions this morning, we saw the news that we'd been selected again this year by Paste Magazine for its "Rock n Reel at Sea Contest". We're so excited and honored -- If you missed the newsletter and myspace blog, you can find all the information posted on the News Page, and on our MySpace Page. The basic news is that we were selected by Paste among 20 semifinalists, who will now be narrowed down by a TWO-WEEK online vote by... YOU. :) Log on to the voting page and rate each artists from 1-5 (5 being highest)... The five artists with the highest scores will go on to a final round, and panel of industry professionals will choose the winner from among those five.   The winner is invited to perform on the Cayamo Cruise in February, along with artists such as Patty Griffin, Indigo Girls, Brandi Carlile, Buddy Miller, Mindy Smith, Lyle Lovett, Vienna Teng, Over The Rhine and many more. Enormously exciting -- Please lend us your votes! You can vote once per day per email address, so bookmark us and send Paste some daily Ellery Love. :)   After sending out some news regarding the contest today, we journeyed over the mountains through Knoxville and into Nashville. We played The Basement tonight; a short but very fun set among a handful of other very talented artists. It was our first Nashville show in a year, and we hope the next one isn't long in coming...     September 8th, 2008 "A is for Allergies"   We woke today in one of the beautiful rooms of the Manor House at Montreat College in Black Mountain NC, just outside of Asheville... They've been in a drought here, so there are water restrictions in place and everyone's allergies are going crazy. We went out for a jog around Black Mountain (a cozy tourist town) but had to confine ourselves to the indoors for the rest of the day. (And by "we" I mean me. Tasha... The one my allergist described this way: "Well, you are a very, very allergic person." That was following my last test, when the ragweed test blew up as big as my lower arm. Nice.)   But the Black Mountain and Montreat areas are undeniably beautiful, and we were so glad to have a day to take in the scenery, if not through windows. :) We played a students-only show at Montreat College tonight with Kyler, which was a great time... It's such a beautiful campus, and always such kind students. Special thanks to Josh Weeks, Jim Dahlin, and Daniel Bennett for making that come together so wonderfully --     September 8th, 2008 "Facts"   Number of days on tour: 7 Number of shows: 6 Number of McDonalds ice cream cones (each): 5 Number of strings broken: 2 Number of PBandJ's: 1   -Favorite podcast so far: This American Life, the "I've Got you Pegged" episode (...And we're waiting for the next Wait Wait Don't Tell Me!) - -Most embarrassing word Justin used from stage: "Deflowering" -Favorite song to play and sing along with Kyler (so far): "You and I" -Randomly spotted bumper sticker: "Actions speak louder than bumper stickers." -Trash level in the van: Med-High to High (What's a girl gotta do for a recycling container?) -Most oft-requested song that we haven't played: "Arizona" -Most disgusting thing eaten so far on tour: That double cheeseburger the other day from McD's (That was Justin. With so many regrets.) -Best food so far on tour: Difficult decision between Eddie's Attic and the Irish Pub on Blount in Raleigh...   Other:   -Stephen Colbert should author another book so that we can get an audio version and listen in the van. -We should probably see Wall-E a 2nd time. -We love big trees. Old, big trees. And lots of them.   -When does the new James Bond come out again? -Jason Harwell is even funnier and cooler than we remembered. -Sometimes the best thing that can happen to Tasha is the unexpected spotting of a cat. (Okay, a lot of the time.) -We love Ira Glass. -Green rooms almost always smell. Bad. (When they don't smell bad, it's usually because there's no green room.)     September 7th, 2008 "The Mountains"   Driving into the mountains of western North Carolina is a peaceful and mesmerizing thing from any direction, and rolling in from Durham today was as beautiful as we could have expected. We checked into our room in Black Mountain before heading to The Grey Eagle --   This was our first time to play The Grey Eagle, and what a cool room. And who knew; great cajun food! (Thanks to Susan in Durham for that hot tip) --   Our Asheville show was a songwriters in-the-round evening with Kyler England and Ashley Chambliss.   While we've listened in (very happily) on several such wonders, we realized during our drive in today that we've never participated in an in-the-round. And we felt a little sheepish about it, since the singer/songwriter arena is definitely one place where we feel quite at home...   But oh my gosh, we couldn't have asked for a more lovely introduction to the idea.     I had this moment in the green room when I was getting ready for the show and Kyler was playing softly through a tune to warm up her voice, and Justin was logging on to the internet -- Anyway, it was such a deeply peaceful moment, feeling at home in a strange and dimly-lit room, feeling a sense of community with these other artists, and hearing the soft sounds of Kyler's voice over all of it. Lovely. Once Ashlee arrived it was even more of the same-- A simple camaraderie and the kind of thing where you can say a lot in a few words and in a short time.   Such a gift to play with such talented musicians, and to feel such a lovely human connection.   Thank you ladies for a great night --   And thank you to our Sunday night audience who came out and stayed late with us; we were so honored to play for you all.     September 6th, 2008 "Storm?"   So I sat down last night to write about our trip to Raleigh, and realized after a while that I had fallen asleep while typing, and managed to write a paragraph of utter nonsense. I thought I deleted all the random additions before giving up and going to sleep last night, but when I opened the original attempt today, there was still a line left over:   "And we arrived in Raleigh to its enormous street fair and the cool dim light of the Pour House on Blount (pronounced 'Blunt'?!'. It was a fast soundcheck and then into an Ellery set and the singing (and playing of 'Amaizing Grace'"   Hmm.   Okay, so aside from the missing parenthetical enclosure and the mysterious 'i' in Amazing... To clear things up, I do believe that someone told me that Blount was pronounced Blunt, so I'm going to tentatively stick with that.   But there was no singing (or playing) of 'Amazing Grace' at The Pour House.     This random insertion I may be able to trace to the fact that before bed, we were sitting round the kitchen table with the dear Marion family talking about how their son, among other musicians, had played 'Amazing Grace' on bagpipes at the football game that night during halftime. (Which I must say is terribly cool.)   That this tidbit found its way in dreamland into my recollection of our show, instead of all the other conversation topics that could have made for a most unusual show description... I can only say it's a bit disappointing. :)   So... A lot more material got nixed in my bewilderment when I decided to close the macbook and lie down. I have no idea but I'm sure it was at least creative. Okay, so it turns out that 2am doesn't work for me for the journal thing. Note to self.   But I'll try to pick it up where I left off last night, beginning with the remaining comprehensible bits--     We spent far too little time with friends in Athens GA before heading out late this morning, back through Charlotte NC and into Raleigh. We've been curious about Tropical Storm Hannah and her appearance in NC during our travels...     But we left under an Athens blue sky today (Sat the 6th), and saw nothing but clear blue skies all the way into Raleigh. We arrived wondering if it had even rained in Raleigh; there was no trace of a storm.   Apparently, we followed it today as it made its way through, causing a decent amount of concern and Saturday festival cancellations in the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill areas. But we saw none of it; nothing but beautiful September North Carolina 93-degree-ness.   (We consider this a good thing.) (Although a couple years ago when we were staying with friends in Tampa and driving with them to stock up on peanut butter, water, and toilet paper under serious hurricane warnings... That made for some interesting journaling.)   Raleigh is Kyler's hometown, so we opened the show last night and like our other shows this tour we sat in on her set -- Which has been so fun. Her songs are ridiculously singalongable and we wind up singing along whether we're on stage or off... So it's lovely to sit in.     After the show we went a couple doors down for dinner with friends at an Irish Pub... We had amazing food and tried to catch up with each other over the band playing (pretty decent-sounding!) covers. We were in a separated alcove area of the restaurant but still yelling to be heard -- It was hilarious and frustrating and entertaining and -- well, there was a bit of dancing too. (I was not involved.)   And we made the drive to Durham where we were invited into a beautiful home in the middle of a mass of beautiful old trees (NC and GA are so lush -- It's so lovely)... We had some fine conversation and made friends with an awesome chocolate lab (have we talked about our perhaps pathetic adoration of animals?) before heading off to bed.     We're feeling particularly blessed today (Sunday the 7th); there are amazing people in the world. Such a gift to connect with them.   Our enormous thanks to Kyler for a great show in her hometown, and to the Marions for so much kindness and generosity, and to The Pour House and our fans old and new who came downtown last night in the midst of Raleigh Downtown Madness... Thank you thank you --       September 5th, 2008 "Atlanta"   We were nearly mesmerized as we drove into Atlanta on Friday afternoon. It was hot and the traffic was lined up for miles heading out of the city... But as the skyline neared we realized how long it'd been since we last saw the great city of Atlanta. I can't believe we've stayed away for so long.   And that sentiment was really only driven home by the tremendous graciousness of the Eddie's Attic staff... Eddie's Attic is one of the best listening rooms we've encountered, and it's certainly become legendary in the US -- for good reason. Such a great environment for intimate music, such great owners/staff, amazing food, and amazing regulars/music supporters. It was a gift to spend an evening there--   Not to mention that during our show I was able to play a real upright piano (which definitely doesn't happen often), we were opening for the very fantastic Ellis Paul, and we were graced with a wonderful wonderful crowd. Thanks so much to Bob, Bruce, Shalom, Tommy, and everyone at Eddie's for a truly great night -- And thank you to the Ellery friends/fans who came to the show, and to the Ellis friends/fans who gave us a first listen. Such a gift to play for you --   We'll be returning next month with Chris Trapper... We're already looking forward to making our way back.     September 4th, 2008 "And Into the South"   Today we left NE Ohio in the cool of the early morning, and we were Water-Pump-Enabled. Beautiful.     We made the drive down I-77 to Charlotte NC in a long eight hours regularly spotted with merges into one lane and stops at desolate gas stations. But we were accompanied by a couple episodes of Wait Wait Don't Tell Me and Fresh Air... Oh the drama on the road. We'll graciously accept our NPR-nerd status. (Not uncommon among touring musicians...)   We arrived in the NoDa district of Charlotte and met up with Kyler England for our first shared night of the tour... She introduced us to some of the kindest folks we've met in a while (our thanks to Dave and Trisha!), and we had our first experience of Cabo Fish Taco -- Which was amazing. I was in love with the Burrito Verde...   We're sitting in on Kyler's sets on this tour, so we took some time at the Muse to run through some tunes before the doors opened -- And meanwhile we noticed that a line was growing out the doors of the theater across the street and down the block, and that more and more folks were adding to it all the time.     It turns out that Nelly was playing right across the way. Did our crowds overlap? Did we draw fans from each others' show? One can't be sure. :)   We wound up with a delightful evening, a wonderful crowd... Such a privilege to perform in Charlotte again, and it's enormously fun to sing (and play) along with Kyler's songs; they're fabulous.   Strings Justin has broken so far on this tour: 2.   So... We keep hearing news about Hurricane Hanna making an appearance in NC while we're in the area on Saturday -- We'll keep you posted! We'll be inland in Raleigh but it has us curious. :)   Our thanks to Allison and Meghan for amazing hospitality in Charlotte-- (!)   And we're excited to return to Atlanta tomorrow for the first time in a long while.     September 2nd, 2008 "Beginnings"   We began our ventures out of Cincinnati (and into the September tour) with a stop at our local Chrysler dealership for a service they forgot when our van was in the shop last week. As we drove up 71-North just a few miles later, the hood began smoking... I was reminding Justin about deep yogic breaths as we exited the highway and found a good parking lot where we could pull in and assess. :)   We were rescued by a good friend, who drove Justin to a nearby gas station for antifreeze (thanks Andrea!) while I ran into Starbucks for water (for the van) and coffee (for self-medicating). We called the dealership and determined that apparently the water pump's leak was worse than they thought, and so on our way to Canton we kept our eyes on the coolant levels and refilled a few times...   So began the Fall Tour.   But we were granted great kindness by the folks at Random Acts of Music, where we were scheduled to tape for their show at 2pm today. With the 'Great Van's-On-Fire? Delay of 2008', they graciously moved our slot to tomorrow morning. (And we'll let you know when the show with Ellery airs in NE Ohio!)   Our arrival at Malone was peaceful and without incident... (Except for how the "D" key is sticking on my keyboard. Oh the mystery.) And it was beautiful to visit with some family while at the show. Justin and I both grew up in Akron OH, so NE Ohio is always a bit like a homecoming.) The show began last night with a set from Avodah (thanks for your songs and spirit, friends!) -- And then it was an hour set: new songs, old songs, random stories from Justin (one never knows with him), and a broken string, sticky keyboard, all of it wonderful in such a welcoming place.   Thanks so much to our kind audience for laughing with us and allowing us to connect with you; it was an honor.   So tomorrow it's off to a repair shop with us and our van...     August 28, 2008: NEWSLETTER (Sign up for the newsletter on the home/news page!)   ON THE CUSP OF SEPTEMBER...   Hello friends,     Such a joy to write to you, sun bright through the trees in the hills of central Ohio.   We're on the cusp of September, with its bright days, cool evenings, and new beginnings...   Our last newsletter went out in early-June, before the short tour with Garrison Starr, before that lovely show in Cincinnati with Teddy Thompson; before those long long nights we spent staring at the sunset out on our back porch, before July came and went, gently spotted with show dates: lovely opportunities to stay connected to our music and our listeners; before the launching of a few personal dreams that have taken a back seat for years -- up until August.   (In August, we plummeted into a few of those dreams until we were exhausted and dragging ourselves out to a retreat in Hocking Hills in order to process it all and catch up with each other.) (That would be right now.) (Beautiful.)   So it's been a long and delicious Summer, and there's so much delicious-ness coming up this Fall.     Such a joy to return home, to each other, and to the music -- especially for this Season.     So exciting to fill you in -- Here goes.   THE FALL TOUR...   We're marking a new step in the life of Ellery with our Fall tour -- which (oh the excitement) begins TODAY, Thursday August 28th in Lexington KY.     We'll be playing Lexington, Parkersburg WV, and Canton OH before heading south for a September tour with the lovely Kyler England (www.kylerengland.com).     With Kyler, we're finally returning to Charlotte, Raleigh, and Asheville NC, as well as Nashville, DC, Boston/Cambridge, Bridgeport CT, New York City, and Philadelphia. Oh my, we're up and down the east coast and we couldn't be more excited.     (And for our Philadelphia friends: "An Evening with Ellery" (the PBS special) will be airing on WYBE (www.wybe.org) on Saturday, September 13th at 9pm. WYBE has been a great support to us... Check it out and send some friends and family our way!)   Please see "Where We'll Be" (below) for venues, dates, and times... And if you haven't heard Kyler's music, remedy that sad situation at www.myspace.com/kylerengland   (We'll be sitting in on Kyler's songs during her sets, which is a delight!)   AND MORE...   There are other Ellery shows along the way, including Eddie's Attic in Atlanta, opening for the great Ellis Paul (www.ellispaul.com); The Basement in Nashville (for New Faces Night); Norfolk VA at The Boot; and Charlottesville VA at Gravity Lounge with 106.1 The Corner...     And we're honored to be capping off the Fall Tour at the beautiful Carnegie Theater in Covington KY/Cincinnati (where we filmed our PBS dvd), opening for the astounding Dar Williams (www.darwilliams.com).     NEW ELLERY MUSIC, and other newness...   There are several songs that have been brewing with us for many months... And though they haven't yet been released on CD, they've laid themselves on our hearts and taken up permanent residence on our set lists.   Thank you to all of you who've asked about these songs and about when we'll put them out there in the world.     Coinciding with our Fall Tour, we've created a promo-EP to release to industry folks as we work toward our next full-length record. (!)   ...And while this in-between-EP isn't for sale, we'd like to humbly invite you to give it a listen online.   You can find it streaming on the media player at www.ellerymusic.com/music.htm, and at www.myspace.com/ellerymusic   If you're feeling ambitious and/or gracious, please send the links to those you love -- And why not - to those you don't. We're so glad to have the songs out there and available for the streaming... Welcome to the beginning of the next Ellery adventure!   You can also find new promo photos by the fabulous Roman Titus, available at www.myspace.com/ellerymusic and on our official Gallery Page, www.ellerymusic.com/gallery.htm (www.romantitus.com)   MORE (tour!) PICS...   Speaking of the Gallery Page, it's been overhauled as of June 2008 (have you seen it? Much better! (www.ellerymusic.com/gallery.htm) ...and we're always adding new photos: from live shows, from the road in general, and from promo shoots (like the recent one with Roman Titus).     And, while on the road in September, we'll be regularly adding new photos from our adventures... AND we're experimenting with some video action as well (we're so 2006!)... So check back often for random goodies.   (You can also find photos at www.myspace.com/ellerymusic... Look for the Fall 2008 Tour album and regular updates therein.) :)   THE RETURN OF THE TOUR JOURNAL...   This upcoming tour holds a lot of promise for Goodness... We're so excited about the venues we're playing, the artists we're connecting with, the cities we're returning to... And it's coming after months spent with more time at home than we've ever had, to be creative with our music and our selves. So we're enormously excited to share the new music and the new experience(s) with you.     So, while we're out on the road, we'll be regularly updating the Tour Journal online: www.ellerymusic.com/journal.htm.   Check back often for news about our shows, random occurrences, general thoughts, adventures, etc... We'd love to have you along with us!   WHERE WE'LL BE...   If you live in GA, TN, PA, or the greater Midwest region, and you're interested in seeing Ellery near you this October/November, send us an email! We'll be touring those areas later this Fall, and while we can't make any guarantees, we're always keeping our eyes and ears open. (Plus, we love hearing from you.) Write to: booking@ellerymusic.com   And to those of you on the west coast: Thank you so much for your emails and inquiries into Ellery West Coast Possibilities... We're working on it; we promise! We'd LOVE to connect with you again soon. Thank you for your west coast love, and please stay tuned -- [ -- Winter/Spring 2008 Tour -- ] :: Apr 14th, 2008, 2:38pm April 12, 2008: "And heading home"   We wrapped up this short tour on Friday, with a show in beautiful Marinette Wisconsin, right on the bay.   (I have to tell you that on the way from Marshfield to Marinette, Justin had another hilarious misadventure, but I promised him I wouldn't journal about it. So I'm writing this for my own sake. The memory is cracking me up.)     We opened for Kyler England again as part of the Wild Rice Concert Series, held on Friday evening at Blue Bike Burritio. And from the name, you wouldn't expect to find all the vibe, warmth, and great food it offers. :)   We were welcomed by a wonderful crowd, and as the rain & sleet came down outside we all kept ourselves warm with a lot of music and some good laughs. We joined Kyler on a few tunes, and Justin played on her cover of Coldplay's "The Scientist," which was enormously fun.     After the show, we loaded up in the snow, which was coming down more powerfully by the minute. Then the three of us headed to a house on the bay, where some kind folks had offered us their unbelievable hospitality. (Special thanks to the Olsons!)   In addition to a warm and generous family, we were greeted at this home by three 5 1/2-week-old puppies. Oh my gosh. A puppy was handed to each of us as we entered, (a fabulous event in itself), and we were immediately smitten. They were too young to do much other than whine and sleep; I think they were pretty much at the height of puppy cuteness. You can find pictures of us with the puppies on our MySpace pics...   On Saturday we reluctantly left our kind new friends (and their pets), said goodbye to Kyler (more shows to come, we hope) -- and took off for Cincinnati. We rolled in after midnight, to the smell of fresh spring rain and the familiar creaking of our floorboards.       April 10, 2008: "Back in Marshfield"   The Vox Concert Series in Marshfield WI is a very cool attempt to bring indie music to a small town in central Wisconsin that has rarely hosted live music. Other than Karaoke. While Marshfield is about 3 hours from a handful of great cities, musicians rarely tour through this area. Vox is trying to change that, by becoming a productive & friendly tour stop for singer/songwriters, and by creating new music fans in an area whose residents would otherwise never encounter indie music. Brian Sauer is a great host, and Vox is fabulous... It was an honor to be a part of it for the evening. It's an amazing gift to connect with people who believe so much in music that they take it upon themselves to bring it in whatever way they can to more & more listeners.   Marshfield was hit with crazy snow, rain, and sleet today, and northern WI had blizzard warnings and impressive snow accumulation. This is hilarious for us, especially considering that our friends in Cincinnati had their windows open all day today and were going about without jackets. But several folks braved the elements and joined us in the beautiful Wildwood Park -- Thank you all for joining us! We're looking forward to touring through again over the next year. Perhaps when it's warmer... :)   We shared the show with Kyler England, and Jonathan Knudson (of Polydream) opened. Jonathan has a really beautiful voice, with that clear & soaring quality akin to Keane. Give them a listen when you have a chance...   Fingers crossed for less snow tomorrow, as we make our way toward the bay and our Marinette show!     April 9, 2008: "Madison, WI"   We got into Madison as the sun was going down, with enough time before our show to find a back corner table and have a quiet dinner. Cafe Montmartre is a dark, candlelit bar/restaurant with a quiet, intimate vibe. Playing in the background is an eccentric collection of music playing via an iPod manned by the (very kind) bartenders. The room has a great feel, and they have lovely (& delicious) food. I had to take the opportunity to order ratatouille. Awesome.     So, a quick story. When we arrived, all the nearby streets were crowded -- So we parked in a nearby parking garage. (Or, as Minnesotans calls it, a "ramp.") When it was time to load our gear in, Justin left Montmartre to get our van and bring it back.   A few minutes later, I saw him come back into the cafe. He'd forgotten money in order to pay for parking. So, he grabbed some cash & left again. A few minutes later, I saw him come back into the cafe. Apparently, you can only pay with a credit card. So, he grabbed his wallet & left again.   I confess that this whole process was immensely enjoyable to me.   Andy the sound guy and I finally saw the van pull up in front of the cafe, and we loaded everything in to the stage. Justin then left to get some gas, because we were on empty.   Apparently, when he got to the gas station, every pump he pulled up to was out of order. He had to try 3-4 times (parking, getting out, trying the pump, getting back in, moving to another one) to find one that was working.   I confess that this mental picture was also immensely enjoyable to me.     Once Justin's many misadventures were completed, and we had set everything up and soundchecked, we were ready for a short, dark evening of music. It was great to hear Kyler again, and she sang with her twin sister Laura England, who has won several Madison entertainment awards for her amazing blues vocals and her own band, Mud Angels.   Our many thanks to Kyle and Elliot, and to Andy's great sound, and to Cafe Montmartre for having us back!     April 8, 2008: "On to Wisconsin"   On yesterday's rainy version of a Monday morning, we packed up our belongings, said goodbye to our hosts' many pets, and headed out for St Paul and a coffee date with new friends. For lunch afterwards, they pointed us in the direction of Everest on Grand, a Nepali and Tibetan restaurant down the street from where we'd been meeting. We'd never had Nepali or Tibetan food, and this seemed as good a time as any to give it a try.   Oh man. I'm officially in love with their daal. Unfortunately for them it was available on the buffet, and a few bowls somehow made their way to my table... Justin had chicken-tikka-masala and raved about it all the way to Marshfield.   Speaking of Marshfield, that's where we find ourselves now, happily holed up against the rain and sleet in a hotel along the main drag. We got some much-needed alone time and rest, replied to the mounting emails in our inboxes, and had some great conversations about life, business, and changes.   Some fine folks connected us with this lovely place to lay our heads, and also gave us the short tour around town. And we got to experience yet another first: They took us to Royal Tokyo, a local Teppanyaki Japanese restaurant. We had never done anything like this, the whole chef-cooking-right-in-front-of-us. Such theatrical flair, a fine sense of humor, and obvious skill.   We were duly impressed.   Okay, we were rather impassioned.     I've never had such amazing tofu. Or so many vegetables. Or so much garlic.   Justin had a steak & chicken combination... And all of it in amazing sauces that resulted in what may have been obnoxious praise.   A lovely intro to Marshfield; thank you friends!     Tomorrow morning will find us on WDLB here in Marshfield to promote Thursday's event, when we'll be playing at Wildwood Park (not outdoors though) :) with Kyler England and Jon Knudson of Polydream...   And then it's on to Madison for another show with Kyler. (Have we mentioned that she's lovely?)     April 6, 2008: "Sunday"   We began our morning early, in a dark guest room at the Memorial Union in Ames IA. By the time we were driving out of the parking garage, the sun was beginning to come up. We filled our few hours back north to Minneapolis with some gentle tunes along the lines of Andrew Bird, Fionn Regan, Feist, Ray LaMontagne, and Over the Rhine. Perfect music for an overcast Sunday morning, the highway empty and spacious. "Brandy Alexander" came on at one point, and the windmills along I-35 spun lullingly to the beat.     We arrived at The Minneapolis Institute of Arts with just enough time to set up our sound system and get ourselves together. What an amazing place, and what a lovely show! We rarely play shows at 11am, and more rarely on Sundays at 11am, and what a brilliant atmosphere. The Institute of Arts is apparently amazing at connecting with its community. Its general admission is free all the time, and this weekly concert series is a warm invitation to crowds of folks out on a rainy (or snowy) Sunday. Our immense thanks to Cities 97 for sponsoring the concert series, and to the Institute of Arts for hosting us.     Our biggest regret was that we didn't have time to stick around and take the tour.   (Side Note: Our original plan was to come back on Monday morning to see what we'd missed. Wouldn't you know they're closed on Mondays. Immense sadness from the Goldens!)   After the show we headed to Hennepin Ave for our afternoon show at Aura. Aura is an intimate, classy bar/restaurant in the midst of a lot of great eateries & shops... This event was hosted by Collected Sounds, and it was a great time. I was feeling a little hoarse toward the end, but nothing a little hot tea couldn't help... And we got to chat with some fine people afterwards. Thank you to those of you who joined us for both Sunday shows; such a treat to see you twice! And our enormous thanks to Amy @ Collected Sounds...   We were ready to crash by the time we arrived at our friends' home in town, but um -- Not too tired to experience a brief Reunion with Mystery Science Theater 3000. Oh the unexpected treasures we find on the road. :)     April 5, 2008: "And Day 2."   It was a great evening at "The Whole" last night, with a kind audience bringing chairs down near the stage and us singing through a tricky sound system but enjoying the entire set. We were blessed with such kind fellow artists, and sitting through Romantica's set was lovely. Great songs... We hear they're trekking down to Nashville soon, so if you see the name on a bill, we recommend a stop!   This morning I found my way to the Lake of the Isles Parkway, a beautiful loop around a thawing lake in Minneapolis surrounded by century-old homes of such varying architecture that the streets seem to sway with creativity. It was a Saturday morning on one of the first truly warm days in Minneapolis, so there were throngs of people jogging along with me, trying to take it all in. I wished in many of those lakeside moments that a similar parkway existed this close to our home. :) And I marveled that every previous visit to the cities has been in under-30-degree weather, so being outdoors for an extended period of time - within this scenery in this town - had a not-quite-familiar, dreamlike quality to it. An entirely beautiful way to begin a weekend.     We had lunch with friends before making a deeply peaceful drive to Ames IA. We will never tire of the rolling hills of these states (Iowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin)... It's seriously a gift to be driving around them during the burgeoning of Spring.     We drove onto the Iowa State University's campus (where "The Maintenance Shop" is located), and were greeted by a staggeringly welcoming staff, a blissfully lovely soundcheck (heartfelt thanks to Derek: our kind, kind sound guy), and a couple hours to spend in the fine room, relaxing and making new friends. :)   So -- We've heard about the M-Shop for years now, but until tonight we'd been unable to make it work with our routing, etc. But we know now why our musician friends love it so much. It's not a large room, but not too small, it's close & comfortable, dim, quiet and laid-back, the staff is kind & generous, and it caters to a listening crowd. (Oh the blessings.) :)   Huge thanks so much to the M-Shop and our wonderful audience; this was a treat. We're looking forward to coming back...   And of course we got to spend time with the lovely and talented Kyler England, whose set tonight was entrancing. As expected. We're excited to play a few more shows with her this coming week, with a collaboration or two thrown in... Give her a listen at www.myspace.com/kylerengland and at www.myspace.com/kylerenglandnew.   Tomorrow it's an early Sunday morning drive back to Minneapolis... And we heard a big snow is coming next week! Oh, the northern Midwest. :)     April 4, 2008   Okay. It's not like we've been away from the whole traveling thing for that long. Nevertheless-- Our trip actually began yesterday heading to Chicago, on a fine afternoon that turned into evening as we contentedly, unknowingly, entered I-90 heading East. (Which, from I-65, is the opposite direction of Chicago.) So -- I-90 is a toll road... Thus, the first exit we could find once realizing our error was 20 miles further east. Oh the sadness. And so it was that we ambled along in the dark, heading down the pleasant road to South Bend, for another many minutes. :) But such things are bound to happen sometime. Plus, we had, as always, fine company in the form of NPR podcasts. So Terry Gross got us through our hard times, and we eventually did arrive in Rockford IL safe & sound. Although a good bit later than we may have planned... :) And the journey today to the cities was unbelievably lovely. It was 55 degrees most of the day, but MN and WI had a big snow just a few days ago, so in contrast to the warmth & sun were the banks and fields of snow to the side of the interstate, and the many lakes still frozen around the edges. We arrived in Minneapolis tonight under a sunny sky and rain showers -- Beautiful. Then we got embarrassingly turned around on the wrong bank of the Univ of Minnesota campus. Confession: This was primarily my fault. But um -- Special thanks to VZ Navigator for getting us where we belong. Which is here, backstage, accidentally eating hot salsa instead of mild. :)   Our show-mates tonight are kind folks with great tunes-- We'll tell you how it goes. Meanwhile -- Here's to smooth travels here on out...     "Where March has Gone" 3.31.08 Taken from the Ellery Newsletter, Mar. 31   WHERE MARCH HAS GONE...   We've spent many hours this month at an ancient wooden table by the back windows of our home. It creaks almost every time we move, and with the sound comes a familiar awake-ness to being home, to being at work (our laptops occupy the table surface most hours of the day), and to the privilege of gazing out every now and then at a world trying to find its Spring.     I've taken deeper breaths these last two weeks than any in the last few years, each one a sign of the spaciousness available in ritual, familiarity, in finding home and one's self.     (For those new to Ellery, we've been on the road since before we were married, eight short years ago this June. We love the life our music has lent to us. Precarious as it can be, with all its unknowns it's the life that feels like home. Nevertheless, I think our friends & fans have picked up on a bit of our longing over the last couple years for a sense of grounding. Which has more to do with learning to be who we are (wherever we are), than with simply "staying home." March gave us a good bit of both.)   Our original plan for March was to work on our next record. Specifically, to work on a demo: which we'd use to guide us as we decide where we want our next record to go. We weren't going to be touring, so it was the perfect time to make something happen in the studio.   But only a few days into it, we were distressed and miserable. It took a dark March morning and a series of long talks for us to realize that we needed Time. Not just for "making a demo," but for ourselves. For being those selves. Time for our love of life and of each other. And time for our songs to grow up and into us at their own pace. (Which is the only way they've ever grown up.)     Anyway, we saw that there was a tremendous sense of urgency propelling us into another record (and into many other things)... An urgency that no one felt but us. Who knew.   Apparently, it took the promise of 30 days at home (something we hadn't had for eight years) to settle in and see ourselves.     AND HERE WE ARE...   And here's where things are now, April now a few breaths away:   Songs came when we stopped asking them to. (As always, as ever.) Reminding us how like a grace it feels when they show up.   Justin's surrounded himself with a few new instruments I don't understand, but I like them already.   We've had our noses in books full of wisdom and thick plots. We're trying to let them inform our steps a little more often. We've managed to eat several meals at our ancient wooden table without our laptops creeping over, opening, & spilling Work out onto our plates. (Major Achievement.) And we're experimenting with our instrumentation and with our old and new material: preparing for upcoming Spring dates -- many of which make us smile just anticipating them.   WHAT KEEPS MATTERING...   So -- Certainly, we hear enough stories to know that our somewhat shattering experience of Slowing Down is far from peculiar.   In this time and culture, the harried road toward More is as common as breath. More productivity, more things, more status, more vacations, more love, more value, more beauty, more youth, more whatever.   At least we all share it with one another: this urgency we mistake for a "Lust for Life."     (I'd love to have a Lust for Life.   What I've had instead is more of a Never-Quite-Enjoying, the result of an ever-present One-More-Thing to accomplish, to find, be, experience.)     So, Justin and I finally took some breaths, the luxury of which has not escaped us.   And we found that when we stopped paying homage to Momentum (so important in the music industry), there was an empty, hall-like quality to things.     I've never been more restless. (!)   It turns out that moments are wide and deep, and trying to Be in them is rather like dangling. Beautiful.   And, though dangling for only a short time, what keeps coming up -- what keeps mattering -- is relationship.   My husband, my family, our community, our listeners. People.   And oh my god have I wanted to avoid that cliche. I've been typing toward it for half an hour and dreading when it would land on the screen. But there it is. In the absence of our Hurtling Forward, what we have left with us, for us, is Connection.     The dream and point of all of this anyway.     Thus you're all somehow even more beautiful than before, you & your support, your connection, your emails, your faces in our audiences, your lips moving to our words.     "Passing the Morning..." 2.19.08   As expected, we had a lovely time last night at the Arts Village at BGSU, where we've been given the opportunity a couple times now not only to perform for students, but to connect with them conversationally, from a stage on the floor among great listeners with great questions, who mercifully laugh easily.     I was talking with them last night about the process of writing a song, or more specifically what kinds of things inspire me to begin one. The quick answer is that I write when something is weighing heavily on me, whether emotionally or psychologically, whether sorrowful or dramatic or deeply disturbing. I've never written anything (worth sharing) by simply deciding to sit down and write, or by being given a good song topic or even a nice melody. There has to be something else going on that won't go away, and then the song becomes a way of giving whatever-it-is some room to speak to me and to anyone else.     So -- I used to think that writing was mainly a way to release a burden, or to process weighty emotions (whether good or bad). But I've realized over the last year or so that the process of writing has always been more about connection than anything else. While there's a sense of fulfillment when a song or poem is finished, it's never really very satisfying for me until it's shared in some way.       For many reasons, I've felt like an outsider since I was very young. Not to the extent that I necessarily felt deeply lonely, but more in the sense that I've always had the suspicion that something is wrong with me, or that I'm off in some way, or that everyone else has something figured out that I've somehow completely missed and won't ever discover.   All of which sounds rather melancholy, but I now know that any human being has at some point and to some extent felt the same suspicions of themselves. So it's a melancholy that we share, at least.     So the sharing of words becomes a way to throw something out into the world, with the hope that someone somewhere will say, "I've felt that too," or "that matters to me, too" -- And for that moment at least, I'll feel connected and human, as if who and what I am is legitimate, that Life is what it is, and that we all of us taste of it similarly at some point. Less lonely. Less outside, less "off," more Me. What a gift.     Not that I always enjoy the sharing. Gifts are not always easily-received, and sometimes the strength involved in being whoever-we-are and hoping for connection is enough to make anyone want to crawl in a hole and learn to somehow be happy on her own. But it is a gift: the sharing, the hearing back, the looking in your eyes and thinking maybe we're more similar than I would have guessed.     On the way from Bowling Green to Cincinnati this morning, I found our iPod and played a song I've been wanting to hear again for months.   Which began for us a small journey of songs I've long loved, songs I realize now have earned my love with their honesty, sometimes brutal and/or heartbreaking (okay, usually brutal and/or heartbreaking). They say something about being human, fully and deeply, something about the Way Things Are (regardless of whether we like them), and something to which I deeply connect.   They make me feel less crazy. Or perhaps more crazy, but with company.   Either way, they are gifts.   So here's the playlist, and here's to the brand of shamelessness they offer that we all seem to need.   1. Fix You, by Coldplay   Tears stream down your face I promise you I will learn from all my mistakes...   Lights will guide you home   and ignite your bones and I will try to fix you 2. Ain't No Love, by David Gray On winter trees the fruit of rain   Is hanging trembling in the branches   Like a thousand diamond buds   Waiting there in every pause   That old familiar fear that claws you   Tells you nothing ain’t no good   Pulling back you see it all   Down here so laughable and small   Hardly a quiver in the dirt   This ain’t no love that’s guiding me 3. Best for the Best, by Josh Ritter If the best is for the best, then the best is unkind... 4. Jealous of the Moon, by Nickel Creek I hate to leave a friend of mine Laughing out loud while she's crying inside But you've got your pride... There's nothing you can do   if you're too scared to try... 5. Rain, by Patty Griffin It's hard to listen to a hard, hard heart Beating close to mine Pounding up against the stone and steel walls that I won't climb... 6. Chief, by Patty Griffin (You can't choose just one Patty song. And this song has the lines that speak for any human... Eloquent and desperate. I listen to the entire song for that bridge: its urgency and regret and something of a stubborn faith.) I wish that you could see me when I'm flying in my dreams The way I laugh there, way up high The way I look when I fly The way I live The way I fly 7. One Phone Call, by Randall Goodgame Mom called me, and I came over Now you'll be leaving soon You see her lip is bleeding -   and there's lipstick on your hand Now tell me the part I don't understand... Save your breath for the talk shows No one's listening here You'll get to make one phone call Don't try calling here... 8. Carrying Cathy, by Ben Folds Woke up sad from this dream I've been having The last couple nights or so With her father and brothers we're all at the funeral Carrying a box through the rain Then somebody says that it's always been this way: ...There was always someone carrying Cathy [ -- Fall 2007 Tour -- ] :: Dec 5th, 2007, 10:47am "December 3rd, 2007: I love laughing at Justin"   So we made a restroom stop at a McDonalds on our way back to Cincinnati today.   I went in and then was waiting in the dining area for Justin.   Then I saw him come out of the same door I'd left just a moment before.   Tasha: "Did you just come out of the women's bathroom?" Justin: "Maybe. Yes." Tasha: Starting to laugh at Justin Justin: Trying to stand in line to order Random Lady Who Had Come into the Bathroom While Justin was Washing His Hands: Standing in line behind us Justin: "Wait -- Wait to laugh at me until we get in the car." Tasha: Laughing at Justin   Goldens: Leave without ordering Random Lady WHCBWJWHH: Lurks disapprovingly in Justin's imagination   Justin, I only wrote this journal so that I could tell this story.   I laughed at you again as I typed it.   (Love you.)     "December 2nd, 2007: Chicago and Home Again"   Getting back home would have gone much more quickly had we been able to start our van at that gas station outside of Charleston.   There was that moment when the key won't turn. And you kind of turn the wheel a bit and it still won't turn.   And you kind of laugh a bit and try again and the key still won't turn.   An hour and a half later, with the steering column and ignition exposed, having put in a few calls to AAA (bless their souls), and with a few borrowed tools from the gas station lying useless on the van floor, a locksmith showed up at our door and worked some kind of Locksmith Magic. He pulled in and was gone in less than three minutes. We went from helplessly terrified to 'getting-the-heck' home in that same small window of time. (Our special thanks to Locksmith Joe, which is not his name but I don't think he mentioned it.)   And so it was that we arrived home on Sunday morning at 4am and departed again at 11am for Chicago.     It was gray and drizzling and the perfect kind of day for feeling like December had finally come in its midwestern glory. I mean this honestly. We love the gray days. (Most of the time.)   We love Chicago in the rain.   We love the Midwest in December.     We were greeted by friends in Glen Ellyn and treated to a homemade dinner before heading to La Spiaza. Which, with its overactive heater and living-room-esque vibe, was the most delightful place for a person who really enjoys looking at gray cold days but has developed an increasingly-acute distaste for having to feel them. (That's me of course.)     So La Spiaza was a great place to call home for a night, and our music was greeted by new listeners and a few old fans. Thank you to those of you who took a chance on a December Sunday. And thank you to our friends who spread the word and brought so many folks into that warm and lovely room.     "December 1st, 2007: December in Charleston"   We woke to December with the sun streaming in our windows and a Fall breeze blowing the palm trees nine stories below.   There was a 10-hour drive ahead, and we have to be in Chicago tomorrow. We felt a bit of an urgency to head north again.   But, it was December and warm. The streets were crammed with holiday shoppers and crowds from the farmers market in the park across the street. There was even live music playing outdoors somewhere. So we couldn't help ourselves. We left our van to sit a few hours longer in the parking garage as we sailed ourselves down King Street.   Needless to say, sights were seen. Christmas presents bought. Carriage rides envied. We made our way to the famous and historic Market.   Which, when we saw it, left us quiet, ashamed, and deeply, deeply sad. The market in downtown Charleston began as a slave market, and setting eyes on it felt heavier than a hundred Winters.     It was a quiet walk to Sweetwater Cafe for a December lunch with the sun on our faces through the old storefront window. We left the market and carriages and bustling stores. Beautiful and nostalgic and new.     And then there was the drive North.     "November 30th, 2007: South Carolina"   Six a.m. and 26 degrees. We were loading our van in our northern Kentucky driveway and heading out in the dark. A ten-hour drive should have felt laborious. We should have arrived in Charleston exhausted and embittered.     But the drive sailed past us in steadily-increasing temperatures, the mountains of eastern Tennessee and North Carolina, and finally the 65-degree streets of the downtown Charleston. By the time we opened the door to our hotel room, we were legitimately hot.   A lovely thing for two midwesterners on the last day of November.   And a lovely thing for everyone else, from what we could tell.     We were graced with a stay at the historic Francis Marion Hotel, and the main floor was humming with guests and Starbucks customers. There was a kind of fantastic alive-ness in the air that we Cincinnatians rarely find outdoors in the Winter. (Perhaps only in the last few days before Christmas... And even then it's really more of a Communion in Panic.)     Later, we left for Kudu Coffee, just a couple blocks away, where we played the show. And it was a gift: Lovely people in a warm room, crowded in and listening soft. Not to mention the free cupcakes from the gourmet boutique cupcake shop down the street... Who knew a cupcake could be exquisite? (For non-Charleston-ians, the shop is called, appropriately, "Cupcake." Worth a stop when you're visiting.) Thank you guys for such a special evening, and for our first music-making experience in Charleston. (Our special thanks to Daron for your hospitality and generosity... Merry Christmas!)     "November 6th, 2007: Fargo and Duluth"   Fargo was as we had remembered it: Small city charm, historic downtown, shimmering across the Red River as we drove in under an early dark. We'd watched the sun set in a heavy red, the landscape sloping slowly into prairie underneath it. Prairie Public Radio announced the coming flurries, dropping temperatures, the Winter we'd driven into.   Babb's is romantic and vibey, a respite from the wind outside, and the owners had graciously invited us for somewhat of an unexpected show in town. Kari and Beth of Fancy That opened the show (thank you ladies!) and brought several folks downtown for a Monday night with us... It was a joy to share the evening with you all!   And I feel compelled to give a fond shout out to these venues for their amazing food. 318, Babb's, and Beaners have treated us to dinner on the house, and we rarely eat so well even at home. Not to mention their dark roast coffees, which are their own special gifts... :)   So-- I woke up Tuesday morning with a cold. I'd had a feeling... We packed up our things and stocked me up on vitamins and herbs, zinc, airborne, teas, and a gallon of water. Which perhaps is all working its magic as I type, but slowly. And not in time to render me whole by Tuesday's show in Duluth. We drove across Minnesota with me in a panicked sleep and Justin growing tired on the old state routes that wound us through small towns and (we can only assume) every single one of their red lights. By the time we arrived at Beaners, we were nearly late, I was feeling foggy and sick, and Justin was lonely and tired. (A sick & sleeping Tasha is not much of a conversationalist, and poor Justin is an extrovert.) Anyway, the show we walked into was one of only a few I've experienced where it felt like work to stay present, to be with myself and with Justin, to be with the audience and to create music from a truly new place. The songs slid out of us more because they've been trained to, rather than because they were, or are, communicative and connective. So every so often I'd wake up to them, to the venue, to the Tuesday night and to the kind people who had joined us, and wish I'd seen them all a little more clearly for much more of the time. So we are enormously grateful for the kindness and understanding we met from the staff and from the crowd, and from Dave Mehling, who began the show with his gentle and deliciously melancholy sounds. Our special thanks to Jason for your great patience and kind words, and for the great venue. And our special thanks to Dave and Bre for a warm and welcoming place to rest our heads and gather ourselves up, and to finally laugh at ourselves. :)     "November 5th, 2007: 'I wish I weren't so old'"   Monday began for us along MN-7, where I chose to work out at a nice fitness center before leaving town. I chose to do so of course before realizing that this particular fitness center had no showers. (A rather hilarious call for improvisation.) Several notes to self were made.   During all this, Justin spent a warm morning at 318 over coffee and work, looking out over Water Street and surrounded by the gentle hum of early-morning conversations and the clanking of saucers.   I joined him at noon, embarking as he worked on a glorious conversation with Carol (at the adjoining table), who had raised her seven children just over there -- where those new apartments are. "I can't believe it; look at those! This town is just blowing up. I would love to see the insides of those, wouldn't you? "I wish I weren't so old. I used to rent out properties. Wouldn't you love to rent out properties like that?" Carol had come into town to buy medicine for her cat, and we exchanged a love of animals for a while before she said, "It's sad to raise seven children and never see them." A sudden statement made twisting at the cuffs of her sweater.  "I have twin boys." She seemed relieved at the mention of them, as if it brought them nearer, and I think it did.   I have no children of course, and no dreams of what it would be like to raise seven of them in a tiny Minnesota town and grow old to live weeks or months between their visits. Scattered trips here and there to the pet store, to the bank, to the restaurant for coffee, back home again, all tiny events leading up to the ones that matter most. It was in its obvious way painful and weary, but Carol was happy and engaging, living both weariness and happiness quite fully, and I was glad to be hovering over my coffee beside her. "One of my sons has cancer. He's only 53. Two years now, I guess. I guess." She twisted at her sweater cuffs again. "He said, 'I don't want to die, Mama. I'm only 53.' "I told him, 'When I was 53, I was starting a second marriage. We took off and traveled the country: The north, the west, the south--"   It was a daunting clash of endings and beginnings, and Carol was visibly haunted by it, by the idea of outliving her son, of having outlived two husbands. Of waiting for God knows what now. I was haunted too. Justin was packing our things. Fargo was waiting. The coffee was cold. Carol's plates were cleared; she picked up her bill. "You go see that pet store; it's just down the street. They have cats, and oh, seeing those little babies looking at you. I love just to see them. You be careful traveling."   She was lovely. Lovely. We left 318 and drove down to the pet store. Six kittens were sleeping in cages by the front window. We loved seeing them too.     "November 3rd, 4th, 2007: The Shows"   The show at Lemonjellos was as always a kindness: A warm crowd for a cold night, with downtown Holland lit up and looking lovely through the cloud of our breaths over its sidewalks. The next day's drive brought us to the equally charming small town of Excelsior, just west of Minneapolis and full of the kind of folks stereotyped in the best prairie stories for their unbelievable presence and welcoming embrace of strangers. :) We love 318 and it was as it has been in the past a little like coming home. The room is intimate and beautiful, more than a little romantic, and we were graced with good food and great listeners and a wonderful Sunday evening. Our special thanks to Shannon and Kelly, to Lauren and Peter, to Jessica and Ryan for making us feel connected, and to Zach and Augusta for sharing your big day with us. What a gift.     "November 4th, 2007: The Utterly Ordinary"   When we left Holland it was 7am. Time fell back an hour while we slept, and sometime today as we round Lake Michigan we'll turn our clocks back yet again and find ourselves with another hour. Blessings both, because it's a long drive today to Minnesota. Not that we mind too much; we've said numerous times before that the highways through Wisconsin have endeared themselves to us: rolling green hills and iconic farmhouses, broad skies and such a gentle dreaminess to everything. Something so essentially midwest, a strange comfort, like every road is the last turn home. And this morning, the sky over western Michigan is blooming and booming with great gray clouds, the sunrise subtle and soft out the left windows, and against its magnificent overwhelming Gray lies all the burgeoning reds and yellows, stark oranges, deep evergreens and scattered fields, and now scattered raindrops on the windshield. November.   Several years ago, I wrote, "The world outside my window / is shaming me again / with the things I haven't seen / cause I've been writing about them" ...And the lines were true and right at the time, for the song, for a life I felt was escaping into an ongoing narrative I felt compelled to keep up. I thought them to myself this morning as I took my computer out and looked away from the clouds and the leaves and the highway in order to give them words. But lately, I've been wishing I would write more. As much as I might be missing while staring at this computer screen, there's something in the giving-of-words that, to me, makes it finally real, gives it lines and edges that allow me to see it, embrace it, fall in love with it. While Justin opens his eyes wide and breathes in beauty and relationships and simply comes alive with it, with them, I need words. Not conversation, not the world bursting into song and dance like broadway, not exclamations or repeated observations or even awed gasps. But my own words: my way of seeing the world and knowing it, the way I feel my way around it and around the overwhelming pictures, dreams, and fears in my mind, the way I set my feet down and feel the being-ness of things, of myself.   Long before I felt any compulsion to sing, long before I knew what it was like to lose one's self in music, I was deeply aware of the power of words, of the way they moved me, shook me, the way the world seemed more alive when caught up in and around them. I loved poetry, the unimaginable beauty of the mundane when graced with the right words.   There's a mystery in all of it, perhaps not unlike faith, that beneath the immediately obvious perhaps there is something of a terrifying loveliness. That perhaps, given the right circumstances, the right moment, a certain word, a certain sigh, a clacking of branches, a hand on your hand, somewhere in one's timeline of sorrows and joys, we catch a glimpse. What Buechner calls a catch in the throat. And we see it.   Not "it," not really a something, but a shimmering. Not a waving aside of the mundane in order to see a magnificent Other, but a brilliant moment in which to realize you've been living in the magnificence all along, breathing it and grasping at it, bathing in it and eating, working, wistfully conversing, all the while it swirling in and around every thread, word, sound. That the mundane and the magnificent are the same, kept one from the other only by daydream, fear, preoccupation. Words.   I have felt a kind of dreamy kinship with Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman, which I hope they won't begrudge me. It's not that I have any delusion of my ability to stack my lines and phrases up against their own. (Not that any such stacking among writers ends well for anyone.) But their compulsion to put it down, to mark what would otherwise seem inescapably drab, to see and to somehow honor the having-seen, to call attention to the possibility of being utterly moved by the utterly ordinary. It's so beautiful, and I've often found myself seeing moments and pictures through the lens of these poets' work, assigning their lines and words to the experience at my fingertips. And in the process, seeing it, feeling it, knowing it all the more potently -- as if the world expanded to fill the cavernous space of the words themselves.   I find myself wondering if I might expand in the same way: whole and vibrant and drenched with meaning. Wondering if perhaps by some haphazard hope of a grace I, we all of us, already have. Or, if not, then surely in Whitman, Dickinson, Sandburg, Buechner, Eliot, in all the myriad poets and playwrights beneath the lines of a thousand songs, novels, stories, and stages -- Surely such a thing is possible.     "October 7th, 2007: Ohioans in Harvard Square"   We were treated to a lunch of barley wine and the largest calzone we've ever seen: a vegetarian masterpiece and the best thing we've tasted in months. We think back upon that afternoon of calzones and conversation with an affection that was deepened by the horror that followed it. :) We left for the 3 mile trip to Club Passim, and found ourselves in the midst of Oktoberfest on Harvard Square. We came to our MapQuest-instructed turn by the Square, only to find that the street was blocked. And then the next street, and the next... And when we finally found some open streets, they were One Way in the wrong direction! We drove around for about 90 minutes before I finally leapt from the van to make a run for it, a box of CDs in hand. It was five minutes until showtime. Justin yelled out the window to start without him if I needed to. Seriously! Such determination. Such heroism. But I basically ran right into a Boston policeman, who (I think) took one look at my plainly-midwestern self and had mercy. He let us through the road blocks to get us nearer the venue, advising us (with no small amount of warmth) that, while we ARE from Ohio, we need to learn to drive like a**holes. He's probably right. :)   The funny thing is that we'd been told the wrong show time. So while we had thought we were 10 minutes late for our show time, we were actually 20 minutes early. ("What? Breathe.") Joe set us up with a quick sound check and we were on our way. And, we were lucky enough to connect with good friends... and to have been opening for Ember Swift (www.emberswift.com) -- which was an unexpected treat. (We've rarely seen such ease and charisma on stage, and we could have watched bassist Lyndell Montgomery (www.lyndellmontgomery.com) for days.)   "After Boston"   We drove south from Cambridge afterwards, onto a soft and winding 3south and into dark and old neighborhoods with marshes and oceans wading into their backyards. We stepped out of our van onto a gravel drive, and stepped into a quiet home. We fell asleep with the smell of seasalt in our hair. It was like coming home in a dream.   On Monday we woke to coffee and the flowing tide, cranes and seagulls and a gray wind on the marsh. It was a day without van rides, with no cars whatsoever, with couches in fact! and meals at tables, and ventures out into the wild and rain. The ocean mesmerized us and pulled at our insides. We let it, and found rest and retreat in the hospitality of a wildly Good friend.     "October 6th, 2007: October and the East Coast"   To be honest, it began in Kentucky. In Boone County, at a public library, in a ballroom conference hall, with a lovely northern KY audience. We played a show as part of a live concert series, and it was fantastic. Not a shush to be heard, and we got to leave afterwards for our own home. But we also got to wake only a few hours later for a voyage that would take about 13 hours. We were prepared with dozens of podcasts, new records, The Good German on tape, and a few states' worth of scenery. After our hurried and harried stops along the way, we found ourselves nonetheless arriving close to showtime and rather panicked -- at the Folk Notes series in West Hartford CT. We were opening for Tracy Grammer, which was again a treat. Our enormous thanks to Tracy, to the kind and understanding venue, to our welcoming audience, and to our new UConn friends. (We hope to see you all again soon!)   We packed up afterwards, found some dinner, and drove another couple hours to Cambridge MA to stay with some friends near Club Passim. We rarely feel such relief upon landing in a bed. It was beautiful.     "September 25th, 2007: And it Rained"   No sooner had we sent out our Tuesday newsletter, lamenting the dry and depleted brown of Cincinnati's September, then we heard thunder overhead and the sweet sound of rain on the leaves outside the front window. Right now the rain is gentle and mixed with sunshine in that mysteriously glowing way that happens near sunset, when we're all lucky.     "September 23rd, 2007"   We were up early with a stop by the downstairs Starbucks and a short walk to meet some NewSong folks by the Circle Line Ferry. The plan was to take the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty, although the lines were too long and we may well have missed the big afternoon event...   So, we all decided to stroll onto the Staten Island Ferry instead. Which I must say I may have enjoyed even more. The Ferry was bustling, and the hurrica