Touring is tough. It is NOT glamorous. And that’s on a normal day. Add a bonny, teething 6 month old to the mix and mid tour, every bone in my body is aching. My voice is the first thing to go. Vocal fatigue was NOT in the brochure, guys!
Thank heavens for our dear friend Jeff and this downtime in Nashville to recoup and do a thousand loads of laundry.
Sure, so far we’ve only done six shows across four cities in two weeks - I realise this is small fry on some touring scales - but with a bubby you quickly realise there are no longer Showbiz hours. There are only normal people hours with shows on top.
There is no WAY we could do it without Daddy and his incredible stamina, care and ability to think for us and make things happen. We are beyond lucky to have you, Cameron.
Long haul flights, delays, breastfeeding, cuddles to sleep with Mummy only because teething, hotel beds, a different city every few days, rehearsing, unpacking, packing, travelling sans your pillow, high heels, singing, chorey, social media, producing, tour managing, hauling luggage, hauling ass...fuck me. It’s intense, gruelling, painful, exhilarating, challenging and we are loving every bloody minute of it.
But shit, someone pour me a schooner of whiskey.
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