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So, where DO you get your ideas from...?

Well, this is exciting. Everyone and everything here at Greenspike Towers are rushing around and appearing to be very busy (even the Thing-In-The-Attic , and The Noise-Under-The-Floorboards, both of whom have been sulking after the late Summer Badminton Doubles finals ended in a debatable win for the Stain-In-The-Shed). The reason for this is that we are due, this very week, to take delivery of at least two brand new ideas! I cannot explain how unusual this is for us here in these windswept, vaulted halls. Even the creatures that live in the kitchen are mildly enthusiastic, and it was claimed yesterday that the Husband Shaped Humanoid Type Object (or HushToe, as absolutely no-one calls him) had been seen looking up from his telephonic wittering devise to see what all the fuss was about.I have to admit that it is more usual for us in the ‘doing’ bit of Greenspike Towers to wander around the North Wing trying to find the manual for the pencils for a couple of months before even a whiff of a decent idea arrives. ‘How have we acquired at least two brand new ideas in the same few days?’ I hear you say (we have installed several listening devices for your enjoyment). Well, there was an offer on down the side of the internet, so we threw caution to the dogs and ordered a couple of humdingers. Exciting times indeed.In the old days (possibly a Wednesday), we used to get our ideas at the weekly Market. Good old Bernard was the best purveyor of quality notions and concepts. You could always rely on Bernard to be there at the crack of dawn (we never met Dawn, but have been assured by several reputable types that she was most charming, and relatively understanding of Bernard and his ways). The various boxes and envelopes, files and crates were always full to the brim as they swayed and teetered, piled as they were against the side of Bernard’s Volkswagen Pumpernickle.We came from all over in those days. Everyone knew that if you wanted a top notch, gold standard idea, you needed to go to Bernard, and you needed to get there early. Sure, there was always a little jostling, a few shoves and elbows as Bernard disgorged the old leaky cardboard boxes, suitcases covered in a variety of exotic travel labels (all the destinations were true, even if some of them were not real), and the odd carefully sealed Coptic jar, often with Nile mud still crusted around the base. Most of us were polite and only the smallest amount of maneuvering was necessary to get to the front of the queue (some of the more successful wordsmiths and paint daubers among us were not so thoughtful or gracious in their efforts to get to the juiciest offerings – Tracy Emin once nearly had some poor fool’s eye out in an ungainly tussle for a small package of Zeitgeist, tied with black Babylonian tar string, and Enid Blyton was always a complete shit). Mostly everyone was pleasant and patient though, with various ideas, themes and even the odd (beautifully polished) concept being shared around, once the original purchaser had had a good whiff of it first, of course. Ah, those were the days. I miss the heady banter and the always jovial fist fights as Bernard held court and distributed the wonders of his van (only once did anyone ask Bernard where he got his wares from. The poor unfortunate was lead away by three gentlemen dressed as a Barbershop Quartet - a logistical nightmare, even then). We would scurry away, brown paper parcels held tightly to to our chests, off into the dawn light, eager to get back to our garrets, chateaux, hovels and ivory tower, to unwrap, inhale, imbibe and generally gorge on the new, fresh, perfect Idea.It is, of course, different these days. You can now buy anything from anywhere. Only last month I sent off for a job lot of what was described, on the Pangaean website used for such transactions, as ‘musings –very good condition –nearly new’. Alas, as is always a possibility when dealing with Pre-Cambrian trading companies, all was not as promised. I found that I had purchased a slightly disheveled manila envelope containing only a couple of vague possibilities, and a short limerick concerning the ongoing exploits of roller-skating sodomites (harking from, it soon became apparent, the koala-baiting Dolomites). All rather disappointing really, but to be expected in the current climate. So, you can imagine the excitement (please do – I don’t have time with all this descriptive nonsense), when the klaxon sounded at the outer gates of Greenspike towers, announcing the arrival of at least two new ideal from very reputable traders! The winged monkeys are, as I type, sorting out the unloading with mounting anticipation. Marvelous. I haven’t had an idea in ages – I’m quite looking forward to getting stuck in to them. Anyway, while we are all waiting, Have a wander over to Folksy and see what all the fuss is about.....