Meeting of the Rubble Club 15th August 2008

Hello Rubble Clubbers, this is Madge Dumpling here welcoming you and your pet rocks to my tiny underground parlour for another little get-together in the interests of pet rock welfare and pet rocking in general. As usual I can endeavour to keep you up to date on all matters every owner needs to know about the cute little darlings.
For some unfathomable reason I am having difficulty finding many suitable specimens of rock this week as I tunnel my way around Undergrowby below ground and above ground here in Blackpool. Perhaps the vast numbers of visitors have beaten me to them. Something strange is going on and I don't know what it is. At this rate the pet rock birth rate will be at an all-time low this month. I stand at the water's edge waiting for the tide to wash in a new batch for me but sadly, there is nothing. I am thinking of catching an ancient magic tram to the distant land of Fleetwood if only I could jump high enough to mount one. Rubble Clubbers, if you see me with my ladder at your tram stop you will now know what my plan is, and you might be kind enough to delay the tram driver (show him your pet rocks and strike up a conversation about them) long enough for me to get up my ladder unnoticed. I understand, from converations I hear along the promenade, that you can get anything you want in Fleetwood at the biggest market anyone has ever seen. Perhaps, I am thinking, they might sell bags of pebbles there, some of which might turn out to be pet rock seeds for my own world-famous top secret magical purposes. Meanwhile, I shall tunnel my way around, ever the optimist, hoping for a change in my fortunes.
As it happens it is just as well that things have been a bit slack this week because my mailbag has been full to overflowing and I have read my letters again and again, a tear in my eye with gratitude for all your kind thoughts, Rubblers. I even had a nice chatty email from a Rubble Clubber called Cliff ( I can't decide whether it is Cliff, my No 2 prefect, human friend of Linedancer who is my trusty No.1 prefect, or Cliff, Linedancer's new pet rock typing away to me on its shiny new pet rock laptop). Linedancer, if you are listening, perhaps you need to rename your pet rock Little Cliff, then we know who's who?
My new adorable friends round at the Blackpool Tourist Information Centre have overwhelmed me with their efficiency and kindness this week. Not only have they been handing out my leaflets guiding lots of lovely visitors round to the Magic Wand Factory Shop on Dickson Road, they have worked out how to press the comments button at the bottom of my page, and written me a delightful appreciative letter about my work. There was a knock on my door one day this week and when I got there no one was there, but there was a big parcel with presents in it for me from someone(and I suspect it was the Tourist Informers). As a result, my parlour is now strewn with enchanted fairy lanterns, I have a new tin for my pet rock food and I have a new silky embroidered sleeping bag for my bed cupboard. I took one look at it and threw out my lumpy old thistledown cocoon like a shot. So this is how Blackpool gnomes can be expected to live! I feel like a fairy queen, not just a Quarrymistress. And I know what you are thinking, Rubble Clubbers, yes I am truly a kind of royalty in my own right, and I deserve to be treated like a little queen, don't I? After the meeting has finished I am thinking of making some new prefects' badges for them. For their thoughtfulness and open-hearted good-natured Blackpooliness they must be promoted as soon as possible.
I have tried a new recipe for the rock cakes this week, Rubblers. I hope you like them. They are Blackpool Rock flavour. Guess what the secret ingredient is! I heard they were handing out free rock at the library, so I made a pilgrimage there(what with the rock shortage and all) and found it was not real rock at all, it was that strange minty pink Blackpool rock, made from sugar, which I know you humans seem to love. I pounded them into bits with a big stone and threw them into the baking mix. Go on, eat them all up. I expect you were wondering when I was going to get round to the buffet, weren't you? You must be starving, having to listen to all my news before you have been fed. I am forgetting my manners. Sorry. Peppermint (rock) tea anyone?
I am going to leave you now, Rubble Clubbers with this thought. Volcanos. If we can't find enough rocks around the ground, perhaps it's time we charmed some up from under the ground. If anyone has any ideas how to charm up a volcano, please let me know. I will let you into my invention for it next week, but until then, I remain your true friend and devoted chairman, Madge Dumpling.