It is with a heavy heart and yet with great hope in the life to come that we share the news that Amy's dear friend and frequent collaborator, Ruth McGinnis, passed away today at her home in Nashville, Tennessee, after a courageous 3 year battle with Ovarian cancer.  She will be missed by all of us who were fortunate enough to call her friend and who had the honor of working with her.  She was an incredibly gifted and accomplished violinist who graced the stage with Amy on numerous occassions.  You can learn more about her music and life at her website: www.ruthmcginnis.com

Amy wrote a personal tribute to Ruth for The Tennessean, which will run in tomorrow's paper.  You can read the online article here

We will post additional information about the service and donation made in lieu of flowers in the coming days.

Years ago, a dear friend of mine and a very respected counselor in the Nashville area, Al Andrews, started a ministry called Porter's Call, a non-profit organization which exists to providing counseling, encouragement and support for recording artists and their families.  Many of my friends have received invaluable wisdom and support from Al and his incredible staff.  I have too.

As a way to raise funds, Porter's Call is holding an auction of several celebrity items.  As usual, I'm a bit late to the game when it comes to sitting down at my computer and blogging about things, but better late than never.  The auction ends TODAY.  There are some fun things to bid on and I've donated a handwritten lyric.

 Here it is…Porter's Call Auction

Once again, today confirmed my suspicion that if you remain open to new experiences that the best ones will find you.  My unexpected experience today happened at the corner of 36th and Young in Oklahoma City.  I was riding my bike from my mother-in-law's to my nephew's house when I heard music coming through the walls at Ingrid's Cafe (at the corner of 36th and Young).  At 1pm in the afternoon I was curious to see what was causing such a ruckus.  The best choice I made was parking my bike on the sidewalk without a lock and walking through the front door.  The 4-piece band was in full swing, the lunchtime crowd had packed the house, and within 5 minutes an energetic World War II veteran had asked me if I wanted to dance.  He could two-step and swing dance with ease and taught me moves I had never tried.  Halfway through the first dance I asked him his name and he replied, with a smile – "I'm what's left of Bob."  I sweated more dancing those four songs than I had during the entire hour long bike ride.  On the way out the door Bob said to me, "I didn't learn to dance til I was 67, after I had lost my wife of 44 years.  She would have loved this."  I said, "I'm afraid I'm married to a man who won't ever like to dance."  Bob responded with a twinkle in his eye, "You tell him to remember that he can always be replaced."  

Where do I begin describing the myriad of thoughts and impressions that followed me home from Africa…?

I'm trying to internalize the experience before I try and articulate its impact so that I don't scatter the precious "smoke signals" that my heart is trying so desperately to read.

Where do I start in this long overdue entry.
For starters, I’ve got a couple of big fat blisters on my feet due to a poor shoe choice for my “Press Day” in New York.
Think I’ll get all my pants hemmed for flip flops and just remove the temptation to wear heels completely.
Anyway, spent the day talking about the Kennedy Center kick off concert for Challenge America, and my partnership with Philosophy for cancer research through “She Colors My Day” and Create for a Cure, to anybody who would listen.
Saw old friends at the Today Show, Fox and Friends, and SiriusXM.
Highlight of the morning was running into Paula Dean.
Is it just me, or is everybody transported to their happy place when they hear that southern drawl calling out across the room?
She is so loveable , and in her honor I put extra butter on everything I ate today.

Now I’m going home to the last week of early morning-get-the-kids-up-for-school alarm settings.
HALLELUJAH!
Guess we could all use some sleep.

Today is day 8 in the studio.
We’re working on a song called “Better Not to Know” that Cindy Morgan and I wrote.
My Grandmother Grant died in the spring of 1988 when my first child was 5 months old.
We planted a field of fruit trees in her memory….little leafless sticks with promising root balls.
I lived on that farm another ten years… Had two more children there, and then life took a few unexpected turns.
When I left the farm I left behind the shade of those 75 trees that had grown into a thick canopy over our heads
They never had any fruit.
Evevtually, the farm was sold.
Then this past summer I got a phone call.
The current owner of the property had had the surviving fruit trees pruned, the farm next door had started keeping bees.
My grandmother’s trees were loaded down with peaches and pears and apples.

When Cindy came to my house last fall, I had just made my first batch of pear preserves
We talked and ate and wrote this song:

We sowed our seeds
Watered with tears
Waiting for signs of growth
Took months of days
And then took years.
We took our steps
We took our falls
Somewhere along the way
We just got lost
And we lost it all.
Nothing ventured nothing gained
The risk of living is the pain
And what will be will be anyway

Oh, it’s better not to know
The way it’s gonna go
What will die and what will grow
It’s better not to know

Those tiny stems became these trees
With dirt and storms
And sun and air to breathe
Like you and me
And some fell down
And some grew tall
And those surviving twenty winter thaws
Have the sweetest fruit of all
But innocence and planting day
Are both long gone
So much has changed
And if we got to do it all again …

Oh it’s better not to know…

Well, last night was a fabulous crowd in Albany, New York.
With the streets starting to ice over, we wondered if we would have to cancel tonight’s show in Mass., but the bus and truck drivers took their time and got us here in one piece.
Got some shopping down yesterday…Hallelujah!
Sure am missing my kids.
After the show tomorrow night we plan to swing through Nashville on our way to Atlanta and spend a few hours at home.
Everything in life is a juggle.
Vince and I are glad for some concentrated together time.
These concerts make a great date night!
Wherever you are…be grateful.
Peace.

To day we are in New Jersey. No show tonight.4:00am lobby call tomorrow morning (ughh!) to be on CBS This Morning…then Fox and Friends.