Meeting of the Rubble Club 14th November 2008

Hello, this is Madge Dumpling welcoming all pet rocks everywhere to another get-together, and of course all you pet rock owners out there in cyber space who have not yet entered the long winter sleep. Welcome, all of you to my deathly quiet parlour here in the Stone Quarry! Ah, winter is a frightfully quiet time for a wide-awake Growby like myself, what with all that sleeping going on all around. It's lucky I have you and my rockies to talk to. If only they could make an intelligible sound in return instead of just rattling,... but then they would not be true to their nature, and life would not be the same, and I would not be Madge Dumpling.
It seems the humans here in Blackpool are very forgetful. Despite sensibly remembering to switch off the Blackpool Illuminations, not only have they forgotten to go to sleep for the winter, they have forgotten that this is the dreaded Waterfall Week. Anyone still awake and wandering around outside in Waterfall Week is tempting bad luck and all manner of disasters to descend upon them. However, here in Blackpool there are still humans out there strolling around as if it were just any other week! No wonder it has been raining and blowing a gale all week! No wonder I hear arguing, shouting, banging, tripping and falling, cars crashing and babies crying! Well, what do they expect?
All you Rubble Clubbers will have remembered to stay indoors of course, because you have your memory banks (your little rockies) to remind you, and they know off-by-heart all the important dates, Undergrowby seasons and time-patterns of the sun moon and stars. Experienced pet rock keepers have only to hold their pet rocks to their foreheads for the thought transfer to take place and the knowledge to be imparted. Perhaps I ought to write down the Undergrowby calendar for the benefit of all those poor humans out there who have no pet rocks to remind them, and also for those Rubble Clubbers who have not quite got the hang of the thought-transfer technique. (It just takes time and practice, practuice, practice!) In case I never finish writing the calendar, please bring your notebooks to the Rubble Club meetings and take notes from my wise words as the year unfolds, then, by next year, you will have the complete picture and can write your own.
No, my rockies have more sense than to expect to go for a walk during the dark, dangerous days of Waterfall Week, and like nothing better than to sit wrapped in their blankets and knitted hats with their backs to the world, pretending to be asleep, much like myself. Waterfall Week is Mother Nature's way of scaring everyone indoors and into their cocoons for the long winter sleep, in case they should have failed to respect the warnings of the season of the White Mist. Winter is a very frightening season, slippery, cold and wet, especially in the gnomestead known as the Watery Wetlands, just north and west of here, and most especiallyh during Waterfall Week. It is very dangerous to health, especially the bones, teeth, bladder and kidneys.
It's obvious why.
Bones get broken when you fall over on the ice, teeth get hurt and broken chattering together in the frosty air, bladders let you down when you take a tumble and wet your pants. Your kidneys, amongst dealing with the waterworks and power source, store the magical life essences (which had better not freeze up or you're dead). Only the bravest and most magical of us goes out in winter, even after the dreaded Waterfall Week, and I, as you know, am one of them. I get wrapped up in my thick brown winter shawl, carry only one specimen at a time and I walk very slowly and carefully, holding onto the walls as I go. If you are brave enough to go out in winter, I hope you do the same. It is one of the secrets of a long life.
Help yourselves to last week's rock cakes and cold tea. I am sorry the fire is out, but it is bad luck to cook and light fires during Waterfall Week, as you probably know. We are expected to be in our winter cocoons at all times, or risk being accused of irresponsible conduct. Clockit Quick, the Time and Tide Inspector, ever watchful over us all, would spot the smoke from my chimney and ring the alarm bells if I dared to defy the Waterfall Week Rules of Conduct. My name would go down in his annual report in the 'Shamed' column, for all to read about in next year's Undergrowby Gnews.
Never mind, Rubblers, I know you are disappointed there is no smell of charred, smoking rock cakes in the air, but I have a big stone jar full of the aforesaid last week's rock cakes and a few flagons of cold tea at the ready for you, Rubble Clubbers. I know how you like your little treats. I am pleased to see you have your little pets wrapped up warmly and glowing with contentment from the kindness and love you have shown them. That is all they will ask of you for the scary weeks ahead. Keep them safe and they will keep you safe and lucky through the winter. A happy pet rock, as you know, makes a lucky home (except for this week. Waterfall Week's dangers are more than even a pet rock can ward off). That being said, take care and hold onto the wall when you leave, and when you get home, jump straight into your cocoons and stay there until next week, when you must, of course, return. Until then, I remain your stoic little friend and dutiful chairman, Madge Dumpling.