A Rather Substantial Settling

Bartholomew Piffle, a man whose emotional range was often compared to a beige paint swatch, surveyed his kitchen. The floorboards were noticeably uneven, a slight tremor running through the ancient linoleum. He noted, without particular alarm, that the kettle, only moments ago poised proudly on the hob, was now resting at a precarious angle, its contents—a freshly brewed Earl Grey—seeping into the developing crevice between the counter and the wall.

'Ah,' he observed, adjusting his spectacles. 'The house appears to be settling rather dramatically.'

His wife, Eleanor, a woman who had long ago ceased to expect anything other than profound understatement from Bartholomew, peered in from the hallway. 'Darling,' she said, her voice betraying only mild surprise, 'is that… mud? And a frog?'

Bartholomew leaned closer to the widening gap. 'Indeed, a small amphibian. Rather jaunty, considering the circumstances. And yes, a peat-like substance. I do believe we've found the fabled 'Bottomless Bog of Blandings' the estate agent assured us was 'merely a charming historical anecdote'.' He paused, then added, 'Such a waste of good Earl Grey. And I had just purchased that new tea cozy.'

Eleanor sighed, a sound that conveyed volumes of marital history. 'Perhaps,' she suggested, 'we should alert someone? The authorities? A structural engineer?'

Bartholomew tutted, meticulously picking up a fallen spoon. 'And interrupt them during their lunch hour? Unthinkable. Besides, the new tea cozy is rather absorbent. We might just ride this out. I daresay it will make for a rather compelling anecdote at the next neighbourhood potluck, once we're done with the initial submersion. Though I do hope the good china doesn't get too waterlogged. It’s terribly difficult to remove bog residue from porcelain.'