COUNTRY DIRT Live in Hope – 4 June 2011

June 7th, 2011

Patmo, Banjo Frank & I

Decided that I’d get my cowboy hat & went down the Folly Stage
All Patmo needs is a beat ... and a BIG GUITAR

Patmo - all he needs is a beat ... & a big guitar. Billy Bob Staunch bass-ically just too cool for school

Can't ya see, can't ya see... Patmo, AD, Billy Bob & Me

Hat haired Juliet Lewis, I'm told

Me Patmo & the mighty Tom Colborn on lap steel guitar - beautiful silken layer on to the music. Thanks to the Hope Fest for matchmaking us xxxxxx

Stars & stripes of Folly Stage

Billy Bob, Georgie B & me

The only thing missing from this sweet li’l impromptu sidestage shoot – is footage of Nick Reynolds torching our set w some scorching harp for ‘NICKEL & DIME’.  Am I crying I should be.  Come on back Nick – let’s play house!! 

Stayed to the very last second – endured all kindsa deluge – but was worth it to bump into festie organiser, Maxine, who invited us back next Summer for the MAIN STAGE – one li’l stipulation:  We cover WHITE RABBIT.  She compared me to Grace Slick.  Am I still conscious? 

Look Ma, no bingo wings

1st… **KLARKE CAPLIN** then the Hope Fest

June 3rd, 2011

LOOK at  a sampling o what this lady did 4 my mug made 4 radio ;-p

******* K L A R K E  C A P L I N *******

Klarke Caplin MA Photography, Tel: 07930 433467

Innovative Photographic Solutions

Yeehah!  I’m  a Penthouse Cowgrrrl!



Ridin' out on the balcony ... of my Penthouse Rodeo KLARKE CAPLIN

Cowgrrrl in Red – mighty Ms KLARKE CAPLIN

4th June 17.00 COUNTRY DIRT at Hope Weekender 2011

June 2nd, 2011
Thanks to everyone that attended the Hope London Gig!We’re looking for stewards / first-aiders and quirky stalls. If you can help with any of the above or would like to get involved contact Dave Ripp: [email protected] and cc: [email protected]
Welcome to..
Friday 3rd – Sunday – 5th JuneYep it’s on for 2011 and is set to be a great year! As well as a great line up in the making, this year will also feature.. HOT SHOWERS! Advance tickets only due to licensing. Ticket numbers are strictly limited and selling fast! Please book early to avoid dissapointment. Tickets will be available from early April and will be available from this website or from ‘The Hob‘ Public House, 7 Devonshire Rd SE23. Immediately opposite Forest Hill stationand ‘Worldly Wicked and Wise‘ 81 Salusbury Road, NW6 6HN (near Queens Park Tube) 0207 372 1110Last date for sending out tickets is Sunday 29th May, after that tickets to collect on door. Address of farm will be e-mailed to you.  No paypal after midnight Thurs June 2nd. From this time/date please get tickets from ‘The Hob, and ‘Worldly Wicked and Wise’ (see above)  

£40 adults in advance only
£5 kids 2-11
£20 big kids 12-16

  • Live entertainment on 2 stages and the Piano Bar
  • The big fire
  • Dome tent for kids workshops and magic show
  • Kids dome
  • Big bouncy castle Licensed bar with draught Guinness and ale
  • Cafe and coffee stall

Wristbands must be worn at all times – Recycling facilities available – Flushing toilets – The ground is hard so we advise you plan for that.  Special tent pegs are for sale on site – Tram stop 1 mile away – No dogs please – Camping separate from parking this year, camper vans have area for themselves.  There are no hookups for these.  Please email us if you require a space – Please respect the boundaries of our event or you will be asked to leave.  (You’ll get it when you arrive) – The nearest railway station is 3 miles away and a bus does go past the site – Once you have your ticket and got location you can google TFL for public transport details….  ENJOY!



Anyone who feels they are not eligible for special services will be referred to an omega-tude rebriefing officer who will help you to qualify via our inflight naked pyramid scheme ....

Last year’s Hope 2010 

Previous Hopes..



For more info contact [email protected] 

Frying Panhandler

June 1st, 2011
No, I'm not the stripper

No I'm not the stripogram!

Desperation from one’s parents’ mortality has alot to answer for.  Had to ditch another bitch over the phone last night – I blame it on a latent grown up orphan syndrome.  Nevertheless I finally self actualised last night:  I’m the phantom killer, me….. about time too.  Been mo than 2 months since I began a spiralling-from-the-start, long-distance romance from home this last Spring Break , whilst looking after my temp invalid mother.   Though I had my reservations it was a shimmering, buzzy, magical affair, and it seemed to make Mommy Dearest so happy.  I was attempting to face the music regarding my mother’s homestretch in this earthly sphere, as a dutiful daughter, but it scared the living beejesus out of me.  I made a desperate choice – ignored so much of what life has taught me.  I began to date someone I’ve known and arguably avoided for the last 20 years…. through Facebook reunion.  When will I ever learn?  Luckily I’ve had a coupla months and all of the Atlantic between us to figure it out.   

Safe from the pale isle, I’ve concluded that West Texas & I do not mix – is that such a painful revelation?  I can’t keep doing things to make my mother happy … that’s another …  it’s breaking me.  Ma wants to marry me off & settle me down in the frying panhandle.  I do so want to bring the dream alive – BE that blinkered prairie wife for her.  As if in answer to her prayers, life landed me with a gorgeous, great, strapping cowboy & unofficial governor of the dustbowl.  At first I was the yellow rose o Texas  – the romance was  full-on full swing. ….  However, I started to get a goony & irritated feeling about the governor,  a coupla weeks ago… until …. his wife entered the picture last weekend.  

Are all men either gay or married, is it really true.  Why can’t guys be alone ever – why?  I H8 making hard & fast rules I really do, but here’s one.  From now on, a guy has had to have been unequivocally single for at least a year – a whole year – or I move on quickly.  

I must thank his wife for hacking into his account and sending me the emails he’s been exchanging with some woman who’s got to be the supidest, most lo-maintenance weirdo upon whom I’ve ever had the pleasure of inadvertently eavesdropping.  Of course I don’t really care about their involvement.  I’d already tried – once again in my life – to establish from the beginning that long distance might occasionally give leeway to site specific dalliances – “love the one you’re with”.  But no, that wouldn’t do – not for the governor.  Sister Twister got sucked in & we just had to profess our endless, exclusive love for one another….. As it turns out we both did what I suggested anyway.  Last night, when trying to talk us toward that revelation, I got some hard & fast “don’t ask, don’t tell” machinations – delivered with abs thorough arrogance.  

I seem to have this block, I just do not want to believe that anyone WANTS to live by double standards.  Just like Anne Frank I believe all people are good….. & can’t grasp the idea that anyone actually benefits from controlling anything, so I’m flummoxed at why anyone ever tries?  And why they try so exhaustively?  

The scary part was his wife tracking me down at work – due to his incompetence – and then him getting all Clinton-esque with me.  Ooooh his big Clinton appointment really resonates.  I can just forget all about support or protection, not to mention being soothed .  Either I swear blind allegiance to his front or hit the hayride:  How dare I have questions, he’s said everything he needs to say to me about love, life, the lord, the universe, his dingleberries & blah blah blah.  Somehow I begin to see Wifey’s point.  

Or am I missing something in boy world?  Did the Gov give me the slip, because he forgot about the thrill of playing the field?    

My latest, most unavoidable life laws –

1.  Bouts of intimacy require commensurate measures of solititude – which must be seen to be enjoyed  

2.  West Texas is a hellpit

3.  Long distance maintenance is a matter of ettiquette, rather than denial shaped devotion

4.  There are more phantoms than there are people on this earth.



Rather fight than blight