Duffus Thunder Box.

It has long been a source of amusement to me that there is not a word in the English language for the smallest room, aka: the wash room, toilet, lavatory or bathroom. There are only euphemisms that were seemingly created to protect my Victorian grandmother from the "un-necessary" aspects of life. The nearest that I can find for a legitimate term for the karsie (spieling variable and origins unknown) is the military term, “thunder box” though even that doesn’t reflect the full function of the place.
 
When anything starts to age, bits of it are prone to sag a little; the portion of Duffus castle with a distinct list to port was, at one time, one storey up; history does not relate when, precisely, it came down to earth – nor who was sitting on it at the time.
 
While I am not obsessed with castles, they can provide a focus for a cycle ride while on holiday, and there are plenty to choose from here; the roads are peaceful, the motorists courteous and the scenery pleasant – the nice weather today was a bonus.
 
I stopped for coffee in Elgin and was accosted by a young lady wanting to know where she could purchase a trike like mine; after recommending that she went back to 1965 (probably about the time when she was born) I gave her some more practical suggestions. Being unable to balance a bike, she has a "utility" tricycle for shopping but is now hankering after a sportier model for pleasure use; I feel the world needs a few people with her enlightened outlook on life.

I've just posted Tuesday's "Chionodoxa."

Derelect Sunday is hosted by Rainie this week.