The Victorian Lav

My lavatory is prettily tiled with zen-style black and white pebbles, and has a Western seat placed upon its squat origins. A quaint tin watering can is to hand for intermittent douching, and a bucket is available when tsunami-level flushing is required. Obviously in this modern age it is not perfect and far from ideal, but so far no serious problems have arisen of the nasal variety. However, the racket made when one uses the lav is rather alarming. As pointed out previously to friends, it’s as if numerous rocks are being tossed down a well. A titch unsettling! I sympathise with my neighbour below, the lovely Lady L, who must surely get a bit jumpy when she hears a bump in the night!