From the Beaches to the Bunk

Atmore, AL: In typical country music fashion, we've spent the last couple of weeks playing shows in the Bahamas, Canada and now... the middle of Alabama. Ok, maybe not a typical schedule, but considering I've physically covered a lot of ground in the last two weeks, I have a lot to be grateful for.

Though I'm more of a 'roam-around-in-a-city' girl than a 'lay-around-on-a-beach' girl, I do love the smell of an ocean and the feel of a summer sun (as long as it's accompanied by a mid-day breeze).

I was able to get in a little R&R in the Bahamas,


as well as take in the sights (thru my camera lens) in Prince Edward Island.


Though our show in LA (Lower Alabama) did not offer any sandy shores, because of the distance from Nashville (a 6 1/2 hour drive), I was able to retreat to one of my favorite lounging locations: the bus bunk. There's something about crawling into a bunk (or rather, throwing one leg up, grabbing hold of the edge and hoisting the rest of my body in, careful not to hit my head on the top of the casket-like space) that makes feel safe.

Since there's not a lot of room to move (unless you have a 'condo bunk,' which you can actually sit straight up in -- though can only fit eight people on a bus), I find myself cocooning myself in like a caterpillar, tucking in the comforter on each side of my legs. I draw the curtain back and though it is only held shut by a simple snap, I feel like I can literally sneak away from the world (or at least the rest of the other nine people on my bus).

Final checklist includes: closing the vent blasting cold air onto the top of my head, making sure iPhone charger is plugged in, sticking my glasses into the pouch on side wall, taking one last sip of my Fiji water and clicking off the single bunk light.


The complete darkness and humming of the generator makes me realize why I sometimes need to put on an eye mask to block the 6:30am sunlight and have a fan blowing on me when I return to my non-moving home.