By: Blonde Two
I really should apologise before I start this blog post, for my inability to stay away from the subject of nature-toilet-moments. I find them unremittingly entertaining and thus, in my Blondeheadedness, expect you to as well.
Here we go! We have a unisex loo at work. There are lots of things wrong with this arrangement. I can’t tell you all of them, but one is that you can tell, by the sound, whether it is a bloke or a girl weeing in the next door cubicle.
We take the delicate trickle of water into water for granted when we use the loo. Until, that is, we head out to the hills, squat (girls) in the bushes (if you are lucky) and realise that wee sounds completely different onto purple moor grass; kind of muted and more subtle. If you should ever be tempted to try out different wee textures and sounds, don’t go for granite as the splashing resonance you hear will be just that – splashing!
I had a problem so odd the other day that I don’t even know if it can even be called Blonde. I am 99% sure that no-one else has ever had this issue.
It was after my New Year’s Eve bivvy with Mr B2. He was making a hot drink and I went for little grass watering session. It was so windy that I couldn’t hear a gush, flow or even a tinkle as I squatted. This was coupled with the fact that it was so chilly that bits of me had gone numb. The end result was that I was unsure, as I reassembled my clothing, whether or not the leak had been taken, the water had been passed or the piddle puddled.
To this day, I still don’t know, but I can reveal that, as soon as I had had my cup of tea, I had to have another go and paid much more attention this time!