It’s Friday again, Rubble Clubbers and I Madge Dumpling, Undergrowby gnome, Quarry-mistress and devoted chairman of the world-famous Rubble Club, welcome pet rock lovers everywhere to today’s meeting. Members, send us some of your invisible cyber-energy will you, because those of us who are here will be needing it. There’s lots to prepare. Tomorrow is Ancestors’ Day in Undergrowby, when we remember the Olden Days of the ancestors and consult the map of mysteries through which their voices speak to us. To celebrate Ancestors’ Day properly, the Growbies ( as we Undergrowby gnomes are called), all flock respectfully to the eighth gnomestead of Undergrowby, the Rocky Headlands which, in the olden days, was an actual Rocky Headland in the north east of the ancient magical land of Undergrowby. It was a mountain beside the sea riddled with caves where wise hermits, teachers, librarians and keepers of ancient wisdom and relics could be found. At the foot of the inland face of the Rocky Headlands, across the path from the seven schools, was the stone quarry, home of the first pet rockery ever.
We Growbies have moved home several times since then, and our magical land has become smaller and smaller and more magical over the years (and so have we!). One day it may disappear for ever, but meanwhile we try to keep our dignity. Every time we move we have to refer to the ancient map of mysteries and decide where we and all our different magical specialities belong in the new place. If there are no mountains where the map shows one, we have to paint a picture of one, or build a model of one. We never forget the olden days and ways, because having things in their right kind of place,… that’s what makes the magic.
Now that we are living in Blackpool, we have tunneled around the area and decided to place the Rocky Headlands in the cliffs on the north promenade. If you look through the cracks in the rocks you might spot one of us tiny tunneling Growbies peeping out at you, and it might even be me, because that’s my place of work. It’s where I do my job as Rubble Club specimen collector, quarry-mistress and club chairman, and if you go there tomorrow, you may well spot me wandering around the rocks, thinking about the olden days, along with the other pet rock fanciers. The only difference between tomorrow and any other Saturday is that the whole population of Growbies will be there too, not just us sentimental, attractive Rubble Clubbers.
If we Growbies had coach trips like you humans, there would be coach trips full of gnomes arriving from every corner of the land to the Rocky Headlands tomorrow, so there will be hundreds of my famous rock buns required to feed them all. I was hoping you were going to all pitch in and help. I was also hoping for some volunteers to set out the ancient pet rock display for all to see and shed a tear over tomorrow. Every gnome has at least one pet rock (it’s traditional) so they will all have visited my adoption parlour at least once in their lives with their grandparents. The memories will come flooding back when they see my display tomorrow.
So, Rubble Clubbers, wherever you are, if you want to join in with tomorrow’s festivities, for the sake of making your pet rocks feel at home(because they never forget April 12th…they never forget anything…that’s their magic!), show them a big lump of rock or failing that, a picture of a mountain, and do some baking. They love the smell of rock buns baking, but any old family recipe will do. Then tell them your life story, all about your wise ancestors and the olden days. Take them on a trip round a graveyard or a monument and shed a tear or two. Otherwise they’ll think they are in the hands of a disrespectful heartless creature with no history.
R emember, Rubblers, its these kinds of golden moments they will remember forever. It’s their speciality, and they will treasure your memories for you, like the true friends they are.
Less chat and more action now, Rubblers! We have to get ready for tomorrow, so those of you who are not here to help, you are dismissed for now and I hope to see you and your lovely little rockies once again at next week’s meeting. Till then I remain your constant friend and chairman, little Madge Dumpling.
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