Meeting of the Rubble Club 21st Dec 2008

Hello! Greetings one and all, this is Madge Dumpling once again, welcoming all you lovely, dedicated pet rock fanciers (and your little pets) to another fabulous get-together of the world-famous Rubble Club of Undergrowby. I am a little late joining you this week, but I see you have already made inroads into the chilly winter buffet and even the dried-up crunchy left-overs from last week have gone.Perhaps a coach trip has come and gone before I even arrived. Ah, I see a letter has been left on the table. That may be a clue! I have opened it and found a pretty card with a picture of violas on it, and news from my newest prefect, Linda all the way from Scotland.
I was right about Linda. She is turning out to be highly intelligent, motivated and dutiful to the cause. The paper card(the first paper card I have ever had from a Rubble Clubber) is addressed to me c/o Granny Gray at the Magic Wand Factory Shop on Dickson Road, Blackpool, but Linda must have changed her mind about posting it, and sensibly organised a coach trip of lovely Scottish Rubble Clubbers and delivered it by hand instead. Well decided, Linda! I'm sorry to have missed you. That nosey, gossip, Granny Gray, my shopkeeper, knows too much about my business already. Your top tip idea for umbrella-holding pet rock beds made from pretty tea light holders filled with coloured sand would be all over town by now, and Granny Gray would be taking personal credit for it. It's best to keep our ideas between ourselves here in the Rubble Club, then we know what's what.
I expect there are plenty of tea light holders, sand and cocktail umbrellas knocking about in the hotels along the promenade. I shall be having a walk tomorrow to cadge a few from my many kind, sympathetic hotelier friends, who have contributed so much in the past to me and the little rockies. In the friendly, open-hearted, welcoming spirit of Blackpool's own, those who love me have installed little gnome flaps in their back doors so I can come and go as I like. If they are not in, I just help myself to their bits and bobs and leave a few orphans behind when I go, (if I remember).
Now, a special notice to Joe and Emma, who came into the shop this week to adopt some little orphans. It comes to my attention that Granny Gray, my day-dreaming shopkeeper, forgot to issue you with umbrellas for your pet rocks, even though I distinctly heard you ask her if they liked the wet or not. I stamped on her foot from my listening post under the counter, but she willfully ignored me.Therefore, Joe and Emma, or Joe and Emma's mum, next time you are on Dickson Road, please pop in and demand your umbrellas. It gives a pet rock that added sense of security to have their umbrella up above their heads, even if they are indoors. They hate the rain, as you all know.
And so, on to the next episode of the magical Dumpling breathing technique.Having found your inner Dumpling, (see previous few weeks' Meetings ) and learned to control its movement within the inner cauldron, it is time for me to let you into a secret. Every night when you lie down and go to sleep, your breathing pattern changes to a different rhythm, sometimes quiet, sometimes noisy. This rhythm, when noisy, is called the Snoring Dumpling Rhythm, (or Snoring, for short). It is a perfectly natural phenomenon during which your Dumpling travels along secret, invisible pathways within you and makes its way into the dithering, magical invisible space just above your head, which is where the full-sized visible you becomes the tiny invisible you. Once you are invisible and tiny you can go wherever you wish and visit anywhere you like on earth or in heaven. You will not remember where you chose to go, because of course you are asleep at the time, but for those who practice the Dumpling breathing technique, it is sometimes possible to breathe yourself there when you are awake and learn a great deal about the invisible world around you. It is useful for inquisitive types like myself, who like to know what's going on everywhere. Next week, I will help you guide your Dumpling upwards, out of the cauldron, through the gateway of the invisible world, and back home again.
I regret there is not time today, because I came too late to the meeting, but I will give you a little hint, to put you on. Sit up straight on the edge of your chair, locate your inner Dumpling and invite your Dumpling to be thinking about the shimmering invisible space just above your head, and let it know that you know what it is up to every night when you go to sleep. Give it a few days to consider inviting you to accompany it up there next week. It will probably be relieved its game is up, and be planning a nice jolly seasonal destination for you to visit by the time the next meeting arrives. It will be its (and my) lovely invisible Christmas present to you. Till then, I remain your faithful freind and dutiful chairman, Madge Dumpling .