Lynedoch Crescent D 167


You are all so nicely preparing yourselves for a lovely weekend. You are either rehearsing like mad, like our musician friends who are ministers of music and preparing for Easter services that will go on for the next seventy-two hours, or you are cooking like mad like our friends hosting big bunny bashes and Easter meals, or you’re lying down, contemplative, like our Jewish friends are, worn out from all the Passover, and preparing for the Sabbath.

Or, you’re like T., cleaning the bathroom and wondering why there are little gnats flying around in there when you threw away the flowers and cleaned out all the vases and swept up all the leaves from the floor. If you’re like T., you wonder if you got all of that decaying flower stuff from Tuesday when you swept, and you crouch down and look under the toilet, which juts out from the wall in what apparently was thought to be a cool and modern way by the architects, but just makes everyone T’s talked to worry it’s going to come crashing out of the wall every time they sit on it.

If you’re like T., you’re peering under the toilet, and then crawling backwards, rapidly, choking back the shriek of rage:


If you’re like T., you’d be saying to yourself, “Okay, calm down, calm down. Mushrooms grow everywhere in Scotland. They’re growing in the lawn in the garden out front, on all the trees, probably on the surface of the building, along with the moss. You’re lucky this year the growing thing isn’t mold on the floor pillows and in your leather shoes and wool coats, like the first year you moved here. A mushroom is nothing. A spore got in. You are not Slattern Housewife of the Year. Calm. Down.

If you’re like T., though, you would know that “calm down” crud wasn’t going to happen.

The short explanation is that some spores have flown in or been carried in with the flowers, and since it has been ridiculously cold again, and the steam has been condensing and dripping down the marble tiles which cover half the bathroom (another great architectural idea that in reality isn’t as great) there’s been water and a damp dark space in which to grow, which suits a mushroom perfectly.

The shorter explanation is the one where T. is slamming things down and sloshing cleaning products around until most of the house is smothered under an eye-stinging miasma of cleanliness, and muttering something unprintable. But you don’t get that one.

Yours in clouds of bleach,


20 Replies to “Oh, THE HORROR!”

  1. Oh, THE HORROR! is right! 😯 But bloody brilliant that you shared it with the blog world. Life in Scotland is full of these little precious, pecuilar moments….but I am now slightly fearful of what might be lurking underneath or behind the fridge, perhaps? Or anywhere else for that matter! I will arm myself with a myriad of weapons: battle axe, sword, flame thrower, holy-hand grenades, and bleach. 😉
    Wishing you a wonderful holiday weekend and may it be mushroom free!

    1. D’s response to my blogging it was to say, tentatively, “You’re going to talk about it? In public? Um, don’t you think people might think we’re bad housekeepers?”

      To which I said, “You think?”

      I’ve rethought that Slattern of the Year thing. Something tells me we’re too lazy to actually be quite that democratic. Perhaps EVERY slattern is Slattern of the Year…

  2. I’m thinking the mushroom is pretty cool (it’s what happens to one who has raised three boys), but can’t get over the image of the toilet extending from the wall. Seriously? Would make cleaning SO much easier with all those missed shots. Like I said. Boys.

    1. Hail, Mothers of Sons!

      The toilet is easy to clean under… but I really think the way it was built into the wall and bricked over (okay, tiled over) is in part responsible for the ‘shroom… there’s a 1/3″ space where the floor tiles end and the wall-bricking tiles begin. We’ve got something growing in the WALLS; we’re lucky there aren’t other things coming up through the floor. You can bet as soon as stores open again, we will be hieing our heinies to get some sealant and close that puppy right up.

      I am snickering at my sister’s future — her youngest son is almost a year old, her eldest is almost two. I see many bathroom cleanings before her…

    1. For someone who is actually somewhat squicked out by Spanish Moss, the mold-eating-my-wool was the worst for me. Opening the back of the closet to retrieve a coat, and ghostly strings of white…

      Okay. I’m not helping with the nightmares, huh.

  3. sssooooo….the wee mushroom was wiped off the face of the earth before pictures could be obtained? No pictorial reminders for subsequent analysis to determine if other factors could be involved? No fodder for gossip? 😉

      1. 😆 Well thank you very much for the offer to transport them here. I think I might pass on them this time around. We have enough of our own creepy, crawlies and yuckies coming out with the spring right now.

  4. I had a friend once who, upon returning from a weekend away, found a mushroom growing out the board upon which he had his dish draining rack. Photos were taken and then the whole works chucked out. Ick indeed.
    And my first thought upon hearing about your suspended toilet was that it would be easy to clean under. Needless to say, I have boys too.

  5. I have some awful flu, my bathroom has been gutted for remodeling, and I have no toilet to even grow a mushroom. So perhaps I’m bit jealous. Happy gardening, T & D!

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