Meeting of the Rubble Club 18th January 2009

Hello and welcome, all you devoted Rubble Clubbers and your pampered pets, to another cosy get-together with me, Madge Dumpling and our ever-growing assembly of pet rocks. The buffet is over there...a change from rock cakes today, you may be sad to hear....sandy oat-cake tea loaf, and your old favourite, steaming hot gravel tea of course. You may be wondering if I have been to Scotland again to fetch some oats, but no, I have traced a local source. Granny Gray has been baby-sitting for her grand-daughters' hamster, and what do you think I found in its food bowl while searching for rock samples? Amongst many other delectable ingredients I found two or three oatflakes! Perfect! I helped myself and went straight to the kitchen where I concocted this week's cakeys, from the luxury hamster mix blended skilfully with gravel tea, some scraps of wet clay to bind it all together, and before I put it in the oven I finished it with a dusting of that magical ingredient, ...Blackpool sand.... from my very own shoes! I know, another triumph! Enjoy!
Right, on to business. In order for the Rubble Club to continue to thrive in these lonely, rainy, wintery times, I have decided, come what may, to expand my allotted shelf space in the magic wand shop, known to all as The Magic Wand Factory, Dickson Road, Blackpool, (although I think it should have a change of name, don't you, Rubble Clubbers, to something more rocky?.... but first things first.....more shelf space for now, tackle the name later).
This week, while snuggled in my winter cocoon trying to go to sleep, I pondered out loud how on earth was I was going to steal some more shelf space? My little rockies, (who know everything that is going on of course, and have answers for everything, if only you can hear their silent voices), came up with an idea. One of my oldest, wisest, and prettiest rockies, is called Auntie Hatty, and true to her name, she likes her hats. As you can see from my picture, I too, like all Growbies, am never without a hat. Hat-making is an old tradition in Undergrowby, but pet rocks have to depend on their owners to make them hats because they have no fingers of their own. Auntie Hatty, who designs all her own hats, is concerned that people out there may lack the skills to make nice, decent hats for their pets and may be scouring the pet shops in vain, looking for stockists of pet rock hats.
After our conversation she agreed, as long as I promise to make her famous, that she would share with me all her spring season designs which I will make, and together we will open a hat shop on the shelf above the pet rock display, where Granny Gray has got some quite unnecessary pottery houses at the moment. It will be called Auntie Hatty's Hat Shop, and Auntie Hatty will be put in charge of it. You will recognise her if you call in at the shop. She is the large plump pink one wearing a hat with a rose upon it(I made it for her myself, to her design, of course).
As if that were not enough excitement for one week, I have had my portrait sculpted in bas-relief by a world-famous artist and several copies made, which you an buy at the Magic Wand Factory. Aunt Hattie(who is, I fear, getting a bit above her station), insisted on having one done of herself, but I can't think who would buy it. However, our portraits are now on sale, along with that of a random family of pet rocks sunbathing on Blackpool beach. Hurry and get one, Rubblers, and buy one of the first available pet rock hats while you are there!
I am pleased to say those lovely Rubble Clubbers, Joe and Emma(see last week's photos) have collected their prize from Granny Gray and I am now waiting for their close friend Louis to send me his photos to share with you. Also next week, I will show you some photos of Auntie Hatty's Hat Shop, in case you are too far away in cyber space to come to the shop.
And with that, I must leave you to get on with the hat-making. My work is never done, baking, collecting, singing, clapping, nosey-parkering, bossing, organising and opening my little invisible mailbox,........but if I didn't do it who would? And then where would the pet rocks be?
Till next week, I remain your devoted chairman and busy little friend, Madge Dumpling.