Meeting of the Rubble Club 2nd May 2008

Hello Rubble Clubbers, Madge Dumpling again, and a great big welcome to you all. I haven't started cooking yet, I've been so busy reading and re-reading my two wonderful emails from cyber-space. I was beginning to wonder whether I was imagining you all. What wonderful names you have out there, Anonymous and Linedancer for instance. I have added them to my long list of suggestions for pet rock names. Anonymous, can you hear me my friend? Thank you for your kind words of comfort. Are you far away in cyberspace or are you here at the meeting? Its so hard to tell. If you ever come into the Magic Wand shop at the sea end of Dickson Road, Blackpool, I have saved you a rune rock. Just mention my name and yours and it will be handed to you.
And now on to my other new email penpal and new rune rock owner, the lovely Linedancer, who recklessly shared information with that gossipy Granny Gray, the shopkeeper, about her kind and gentle niece, Laura, who has some lucky little rockies of her own. I must warn you, Linedancer, she tells me everything she hears but luckily for you I am the soul of discretion and will only tell my entire membership (and most of them are invisible gnomes). From what I have gleaned from the old gossip, all I can say is that I wish Laura could be here in person because I would shower her with fabulous little treats for being such an animal lover like myself. Laura, if you are here at the meeting, I daresay, animal-lover that you are, you are worrying and wracked with guilt about keeping your pet rocks in captivity, and wondering if they might be happier on a mountainside somewhere with others of their own kind. Well, let me put your mind at rest. Search though you might for a nice place to release them back into the wild, you won't find one. There are NO others of their own kind out there on any mountainsides, rubble heaps, quarries or pebbly beaches anywhere in the world. I have just rescued them from all that, magicked them into the life for which they were always destined and now their idea of heaven is in right there in your safe, warm pocket, Laura. The nearest to the great outdoors they want to be is having a little sunbathe in a plant pot next to your deckchair. Pet rocks are the ultimate animal lover's guilt-free delight because of it.
And now on to more animal-themed business. Donkeys. It has come to my attention while listening in to conversations through chinks in the 'cliffs' that there are these jingling four-legged creatures who visit Blackpool beach to give fun to little children who ride on their backs. It reminds me of an old Undergrowby folk tale about the Paradise Donkey.
When someone is especially kind to others and shares their burdens and troubles without complaint again and again, it is said they will be visited one day by the Paradise Donkey, a tiny angel animal, who will appear returning towards them in the river of time, decked in flowers, and carry them forward into a life gifted and blessed by the angels and ancestors, who see and reward everything we do from their perches in the far away misty mountaintop gnomestead known as High Heaven. A paradise donkey is a very lucky creature, much painted and sculpted by Undergrowby artists as good luck charms. Growbies give them to each other as a way of saying 'Thank you, and I hope the Paradise Donkey calls on you soon", a common gift theme in Undergrowby.
I am wondering if these four-legged creatures may be a giant version of the same thing? So far I have not spotted one, so perhaps I am not destined for ancestral blessings and good fortune just yet. If you spot one before me, Rubble Clubbers, and decide to send your pet rocks off on a donkey ride, make sure they are tied on securely, with a rubber band or sticky tape, perhaps.
I really do have to start cooking now. Headwin Boulder, who only comes for the rock buns, is putting his coat on and is about to leave. 'Stop, Headwin! look, I am just about to start. Have a stick of that Blackpool rock to put you on." (It really looks nothing like a rock does it? Good job, I say. Cannibalism is frowned upon amongst pet rock lovers. If I ever see any of you eating one of your pet rocks, I will confiscate your entire collection immediately)
Take good care of your little darlings and enjoy the holidays. A little trip to Blackpool, perhaps, to enjoy the sunset over the sea and stock up on pet rocks? If so, tell your secrets to Granny Gray and we'll all be reading about them next week. Until we meet again next Friday. I remain your devoted chairman and discreet friend, Madge Dumpling.