The most curious comings and going are upon us, dear diary, really very odd.

It would seem that the Ministry of Agriculture, or Northambleton Social Services, or the RSPCA, or Joanna Lumley or someone have decided that since Sarah left, we are no longer capable of managing the Invocal Farm ourselves.

The long and short of it is, dear diary, they have sent in a nice lady to look after us.

Her name is Marieke and I don't mind telling you, that whilst I am without a doubt quite literally the very least racist person that has ever been born, I have every reason to believe she may be foreign.

Despite this shortfalling, she seems to be taking care of us very well - is booking us lots of concerts, organsing photo shoots, making sure the ponies don't try to swim away again.

I saw Sarah yesterday. I am glad she mainly stays out of trouble now she is a Mum.

Mind you, whilst I do believe in compassion dear diary, I do find it remarkable that she was let off from all those charges "because her baby is just so cute".

I sometimes wonder if Northambleton Crown Prosecution Service receives any kind of regulation from central government at all.

Remember when Rachel went through that phase of stealing cars and and she was sentenced to ten pressups and a starjump? Peculiar.

I suppose I wouldn't be quite so questioning and cynical about The System had I not left the Invocal tractor in the village hall carpark overnight last year. I do accept it WAS forbidden, and I do accept I SHOULDN't have done it, but my rationale was better to leave the tractor where it is than try to drive it whilst on smack ANYWAY, I can't help but feel that 6 months in prison was a bit harsh.

And so explains my neglecting you, dear diary. I've been in prison where they don't have pens, or keyboards, or um yeh.

BUT fortune moves in mysterious ways dear diary, whilst in jail I met two perfectly lovely inmates called Bee and Debbie. Debbie was in for making a mixtape off the radio, and Bee was in for murder. We got on like a house on fire.

We whiled away the lonely days singing songs about gays and being mental when suddenly it dawned on us - they should both DEFINITELY move in with us and join Invocal AS SOON AS WE WERE RELEASED!! Oh how we all cheered and laughed and hugged when we all unanimously decided that that should definitely happen. Well actually they just sort of just looked sideways and downwards a bit but I knew they were happy. That's what criminals do when they are really ecstatically happy. And normal people too actually.

Anyway I must go and check on Rachel and Helen. They have a new enterprise called 'Chicken Tricks'. I don't know what it is but the chickens don't look happy at all.



    





 

Dearest Diary, what a day it's been.

I am currently on sabbatical from the Invocal farm, and staying in a lovely village called Loogabarooga, which is a bit like Northambleton except perhaps not quite as classy and quaint.

The farm I am staying on is very odd - no sheep, no chickens, and when I tried to milk the one animal I did find, I got really told off.
I say sabbatical, but truth be told I did consider it prudent to keep out of peoples way in Northambleton for a few days. Apparently our serendipidous discovery of a pile of easter eggs and the consequential chocolate frenzy that ensued meant that the frail little orphans from Northambleton got no easter eggs at all this year.

"We just found them! How were we supposed to know they had been planted there as part of the easter egg hunt!?" Helen protested. "Errr because they were hidden INSIDE the orphanage?" an irrate bearded hippy replied; "and because they were only accessable from the outside by an upstairs WINDOW!? seriously! how do you and your crappy band ALWAYS manage to ruin Easter??"


"I don't think anyone really understands how HARD it is for us " I said "we have SUGAR NEEDS -  I don't think your precious orphans really understand HARDSHIP."


I could tell by Hippy's expression I had made a good point - he had the kind of open mouthed, steely contemptuous glare that could only say "Oh I see! I hadn't thought of it like that."


Nonetheless, I thought it might be wise to keep out of the way for a bit.


I love eggs.


Things have been good on the Invocal farm so far this year dear diary, although we miss Sarah and her bizarre delinquent behaviour ever such a lot. We are glad the police eventually freed her and all the charges have been dropped - now she can concentrate on making a baby with that lovely foreign man from Kayndalaykeyurrrnurr. We can't wait to meet the baby - I have already told them that Rosie is a lovely name for a girl OR a boy, or twins.


We have had a lovely time playing as a trio, including a tour of North just last weekend. These gigs included one in a delightful village called Preston-On-The-Booze, where we played with lovely Natalie www.myspace.com/njmott. She sings some pretty songs about misery and hatred. I am hoping she will play at my wedding, once I meet the right man of course.


We also played at an evening of Burlesque dancers in a hamlet called Olde Coallyville which was brilliant.

I found myself in a bit of a daze when the performing artists were on stage, I think probably because I hadn't had enough sugar. Anyway, I came too realising Helen and Rachel were clicking their fingers in front of my eyes saying "c'mon, we've got to go!" I replied in my delerium "the ladies make me feel funny in my pants". Naturally I was horrified when I realised what I had said, and explained to the others that I was very tired and possibly coming down with a fever and maybe I needed sugar and I really love Bradd Pitt and Tom Cruise and David Hasslehoff but not Jonny Depp he's too girly, and they rolled their eyes and tutted in understanding.

On Saturday we are playing at our beloved neighbouring village, Little Cambridgeton. Some of the songs we will be performing with our new friend Debbie Mcgee, Which we're very excited about.

Anyway I had better go dearest diary - I have been left alone on the farm where I am staying in Loogabarooga, and need to make myself useful. The least I can do is give their one farm animal a bit of a haircut.
 
 
 
 

Dearest diary

I have been neglecting you haven't I? I'm sorry about that, but I had a rare illness, like off the telly.

Oh dearest diary, I am so worried that people will want to come to out Album Launch in Northambleton on December the 13th and they won't have got tickets in time! they are selling like hot rocks you see, and the venue is only very small. The stupid Albert Hall didn't even reply to my email offering a generous album discount to employees should we decide to hold it there, so we have gone for the Downunder Club in Northambleton, which is sort of the same except a bit smaller.

I have tried to let everyone know that they need to book via www.nettlewine.com/shop, but you know what people are like dearest diary, they are ever so stupid, and tend to walk away when I am talking to them. It's odd.

We had a lovely time at fitdog studio, and when I tell people we have been recording there, people declare that Chris Furner must be the most tolerent, patient engineer/producer on the face of the earth. I narrow my eyes and agree, pretending to understand what they are getting at.

Anyway I'd better go, dearest diary, as Invocal have a meeting with the village parish council, something to do with some complaints regarding our "...so much more important than the birth of Christ" xmas advertising campaign.

 

Sad news, dear Diary. Sarah has finally gone too far this time, and she's having to be exiled from the Invocal Farm. I can't really go into too much detail but I doubt very much if Northambleton residents were in any doubt as to the gravity of her misdemeanor once the army were involved.There is a rumour going around that she is joining Onvical but this is NOT TRUE.

OK???????

So this leaves us to find a replacement singer and instrumentalist. I asked Rachel and Helen to come up with an advert for the NME last night, and they came up with this...

The Perfect Bandmate

Wanted a new bandmember for three adorable farmgirls...

If you want this choice position
Have a cheery disposition
Rosy cheeks, sing lots
Play clarinet, oboe, fiddle or something of that sort

You must be kind, you must be witty
Very sweet and fairly pretty (not prettier than us though)
Take us on outings, give us treats
Sing Miss Rosie's songs, bring sweets

Never be cross or cruel
Never give us castor oil or gruel
Love us as your music sisters
Protect us when Miss Rosie hits us

If you won't scold and dominate us
We will never give you cause to hate us
We won't hide your spectacles
So you can't see
Put toads in your bed
Or pepper in your tea
Hurry, Newsarah
Many thanks
Sincerely,

Helen and Rachel Invocal,
Helen and Rachel Invocal.

Obviously I tore it up and threw it in the fireplace as soon as I saw it - do they have the faintest idea how much an ad that long would cost!?And who on EARTH needs to specify in a classified advertisment that a successful applicant won't force feed them gruel and caster oil?? I worry about the effect Sarah leaving is having on them dear diary, I really do. They're being really weird.

Oh I DO hope we find a new band member soon though dear diary, really I do... but WHO? ... WHO could it be???

 WHO???

WHO????








Who????

Oh how we love the festival season dearest diary - leaving the Invocal farm and packing off on adventures, seeing some amazing parts of the country and playing our music to lovely people.

My band love it even more than I do, as it means they get to spend extensive periods of time in my company.

...it was the tapping of my own keyboard. But the police were very grateful for my call regardless. Keep your eyes and ears open dear diary, these are dangerous times.

They've been at it again dear diary! First they stole my guitar, then they broke my phone, and then that fucking awful Posie ran me over in her tractor! As you will know I don't usually like to make a fuss, but I DID nearly DIE. Actually I DID die. I actually DIED. For, like, a little while - you know, like in films. For an hour or something. Pissed around with some grandparents and dead pets then woke up. Or something. Anyway. The fact of the matter is this. Onvical are wankers.

I can't help but wonder if there is and Onvical mole in Invocal. And whilst I would never point the finger of blame at any one of my band/ farm mates/ best friends in the whole wide world, I can't help but wonder if definitely it is without a shadow of a doubt Rachel.

I think she has been swapping information on where I will  be/ where I may or may not have left things/ the mysteries of science ie how water breaks electrical goods etc in exchange for sequins and feathers from that dreadful whore Racquel .

In other news, we had two lovely gigs at the weekend, one was with our heathen neighbours in The-Godforsaken-Village-of-Blisworth, and the other was at Folk on the Green. Both were very much fun and we were very pleased to be asked to play. However, Helen was a little disappointed as she had misunderstood the nature of the latter event and had bought a new smoking hat and a retail size order of coco pops especially.

Anyway dear Diary, I must dash. I can hear Rachel Morse coding Raquel the whereabouts of the deeds to the Invocal farm.

 Hello dearest diary,

Sarah is very excited today, because her new tractor is arriving. I’m very excited too because it means she’ll be able to help even more on the Invocal farm - which is brilliant news with lambing season just around the corner. And I dare say it will do her back no end of good no longer having to individually transport ewes and lambs in a wheelbarrow.

Sarah’s behaviour has been a lot less bizarre recently (something of a relief since Rachel has turned into a monster). She took me to Dance Club last night, but I can’t really tell you much about what happened I’m afraid, dear diary, as what happens at Dance Club, stays at Dance Club. But I  won. That’s all I’m saying.

 We’re jolly excited about our concert in the Racehorse Stables, but have just heard that that awful Onvical are holding a rival concert at the village bandstand, in aid of the victims of the Northambleton Blowiness and Raininess. It’s just like them to pounce on an emotive issue and use it for their own self promotion. They’re so manipulative and shallow. It sickens me.

Anyway, I don’t know if I mentioned before, but tomorrows Invocal concert is in aid of tiny cup kittens.



Rock for justice.

Hello Dearest Diary

I hope that you are keeping well.

Well we have been back in Gayton (ha haha ...ha), recording for our forthcoming album. All is going very well dearest diary, except Rachel, of all people, seems to have developed an attitude problem.

The problem began when she was recording some hand clapping on one of the tracks, and lovely Chris commented on what a good clapper she was.

(I was suspicious that this was not what he had actually said dear diary, but I kept my  thoughts to myself.)

Anyhoo, this compliment went straight to her head and she’s now carrying out all manner of diva strops.

For example. Last weekend I happened to mention that she was utterly tuneless and for the love of God we’re just going to have to record the whole fucking thing again and had she any idea how much this was costing the business and how could she have done this to me, and that she was ruining my artistic vision, and that I couldn’t work with amateurs, and didn’t she know who I was, and dear diary, no word of a lie, she SIGHED! before carrying on recording.

I kid you not, she exhaled in a pointed, and unpositive way.

I’m at my wits end, dear diary, I really am. Where will it end? I’m living in total fear of it one day getting so bad that she mutters "whatever" under her breath.

It’s no way to live.

In other news, dear diary, Invocal will be celebrating their return to Northambleton with a special 17 hour set in the Racehorse Stables. Also playing will be Lois Barrett, a lovely girl from Towcester-Wheres-That-Again.

I do hope lots of people come dear diary, we have some new songs and I have had to buy Rachel a new mandolin in the hope that it quells her hideous new temper.

Hello Dearest Diary

I can only apologise for having neglected you for so long.

Well what happened this time was, *with all the excitement of the release of our new EP, Helen forgot to lock the cake, fudge and mars bar room. Soon after discovering her error I slipped into a diabetic coma, and have only recently awoken. It was Quetiapina who revived me, with some smelling salts and a giant toblerone.

We've had a lovely Christmas on the Invocal Farm - aside from a few mishaps (Helen pulled the Christmas tree over onto herself and Sarah accidently flambéd Rachel's head instead of the Christmas pudding) everything has gone smoothly.

The Northambleton Village Carol Service was a joy to behold, apart from the appearance of ridiculously twattish Onvical (God I hate those stupid girls SO MUCH).

They turned up on some sort of stupid sledge, dressed in some stupid red costumes and stupid white beards, giving presents to children and generally making an absolute nuisance of themselves. You could tell all the villagers just wanted them to fuck off by the way they were clapping and laughing and saying "isn't it magical?" as if to say "who are these awful paedophiles?".

The worst one was that fucking awful Posie who took it upon herself to sing the solo of Once In Royal David's City in the least pleasant key imaginable. For heaven's sake - the girl is an alto - why oh why does she insist on attempting that hideous upper range??? I HATE HER SO MUCH.

Everyone LOVED the desk tidies I made them. So much so that they have stored them away, only to be used on extra special pen storing occassions. I'm so proud that my gifts have brought such joy and sentimental feeling - especially as they have been crafted by my own fair and very delicately proportioned hands.

In other news, we've begun recording our new album for - the songs we have been working on this month are Where The Gotten Go, La La La I'm Not Listening and Guide to Survival 08.

The remaining 5 or 6 will be ready for recording very soon.

Rachel thinks we will also be recording her very own 'composition' entitled "I'm Straight, I'm Great, Get Used To It".

But we won't be.

Anyway dear Diary. I must go now, but I will be back with more exciting news soon.

Miss Rosie xxx

*I discovered Facebook