Bog Standards

“You’re very lucky to live here.”

I’ve heard that a lot this year and, now as the season closes, I wholeheartedly agree. It’s strange to look back at how it wasn’t the beauty of the place and the wildlife all round that I noticed at first, but that human and animal waste, shall we say, had come to dominate my life. If I wasn’t batting deer poo off the golf greens, I was waving a loo brush in the ladies.

Repetitive daily task that cleaning toilets is, I have to say that in eight months of it, without respite, I haven’t had to deal with anything unpleasant lurking in the depths- if you know what I mean. Clearly we have considerate visitors.

Toilet cleaning has given me other, darker insights into human nature. For example, sometimes callers come when I am mid-mopping. They will ask, with disdain at my lowly status, if they can speak to the owner. I cheerfully introduce myself then get my revenge by shaking their hands with my Marigolds still on.

Everyone should do a stint of toilet cleaning in their lives! Then we’d be eternally grateful for the great service toilet cleaners do us. Facing a dripped-on seat when you’re dying for relief can ruin anybody’s day.

I’m ashamed to confess that I have had the experience of toilet-cleaning rage. It happened in the height of season when, despite barricading myself in the loos with closed signs, one passer-by after another clambered over them the minute I was occupied in a closet, without so much as a “Please, I’m desperate!” The bowls got a furious pounding with the loo brush that day!

Nigel and I are now polished and practised toilet cleaners, who swish through the toilets in no time. And there can’t be many toilet cleaners who can step outside and straightaway see eagles and red deer.

We are lucky to live here!

Have a wonderful time in the winter months.

Hope to see you next year.

Kathy and Nigel