The Queen Needs Someone to Write Letters for Her

Brian Lawless, WPA Pool/Getty Images
Brian Lawless, WPA Pool/Getty Images

Between hosting world leaders, supporting charities, and adding to her colorful hat collection, Queen Elizabeth II is a busy woman. She receives thousands of letters each year—about 200 to 300 a day, according to some estimates—and could use a little help answering all of them.

That’s where the royal letter writer comes in. Buckingham Palace is looking for a “correspondence officer” who will be tasked with “drafting a letter that someone will never forget,” according to the job listing. The officer would be responsible for answering each and every letter and answering the public’s queries, whether they be political or social in nature, or something altogether “unique.”

This individual would work out of the Private Secretary’s Office, which also handles the Queen’s speeches, receives official presents, and arranges domestic and overseas programs. The salary is £24,000 (about $32,100), making it an ideal job for someone early in their career. Applicants must have some administrative experience, excellent writing skills, and must be a British citizen or have the right to work legally in the UK.

Although the Queen’s Ladies-in-Waiting respond to most letters from the public, the Queen occasionally answers some personally. In 2012, she wrote a letter to Andrew Simes, the grandson of a man who had sent her a Christmas card every year from 1952 up until his death in 2011. She wrote, "When I received a letter from a different Simes this Christmas, I instructed my office to research your grandfather's whereabouts. Therefore it is with much sadness, I have learned of his passing and extend my condolences to you and your family."

If penning letters on behalf of the Queen sounds like your dream job, you’d better act fast—the deadline for submissions is June 13. Online applications can be submitted here, and other openings (including pastry chef, housekeeping assistant, and administrator of “royal bindery,” or bookbinding operations at Windsor Castle) can be viewed here.

A Finnish Tourism Company Is Hiring Professional Christmas Elves

iStock.com/kali9
iStock.com/kali9

Finland isn't quite the North Pole, but it will be home to a team of gainfully employed Christmas elves this holiday season. As Travel + Leisure reports, the Scandinavian country's Lapland Safaris is looking for elves to get guests into the holiday spirit.

Lapland Safaris is a tourism company that organizes activities like snowmobiling, Northern Lights-gazing, skiing, and ice-fishing. The elf employees will be responsible for leading guests to their buses and conveying important information, all while spreading holiday cheer. The job listing reads, "An Elf is at the same time an entertainer, a guide, and a mythical creature of Christmas."

Each Lapland Safari elf will receive training through Arctic Hospitality Academy prior to starting the job. There, they will learn "the required elfing and communication skills." Training will be conducted in English, but candidates' knowledge of French, Spanish, or German is a plus.

To apply, aspiring elves can fill out and submit this form through Lapland Safaris's website. The gig lasts from November 2018 to the beginning of next year, with employees having the option to work at any of the company's Finnish destinations (Santa's workshop is unfortunately not included on the list).

[h/t Travel + Leisure]

A 16th-Century Guide to Pooping at King Henry VIII's Hampton Court Palace

iStock
iStock

In King Henry VIII’s pleasure palace, Hampton Court, there was no escaping class—not even in the loo.

The King, of course, had a luxurious place to squat. According to the Hampton Court Palace website, he and other royals sat atop a padded chair "covered in sheepskin, black velvet, and ribbons" lofted above a pewter chamber pot. This toilet was private, located in a so-called "stool room" that was attended to by a high-ranking courtier known as the Groom of the Stool. It was a privileged, well-respected gig to handle the monarch's waste. (Apparently the groom would even take notes on the sovereign's movements. In 1539, Henry VIII's groom showed a flair for euphemism by writing that the King had taken laxatives and experienced "a very fair siege.")

Down a social peg, Henry VIII's highest-esteemed courtiers weren't nearly as coddled as their king, but they were still lucky enough to have their own private chambers—and, therefore, their own chamber pots. The same, however, could not be said for Hampton Court's many servants.

The smelly truth is that Hampton Court was not well-equipped to serve the bodily needs of hundreds of servants. During the king's boisterous banquets, busy servants regularly heeded nature's call by relieving themselves in hidden hallway corridors and on sizzling fireplaces. In the kitchen, the boys assigned to turning the spit were commonly found "interlarding their own grease to help the drippings." The walls reeked of urine so badly that, according to historian Lucy Worsley in her book If Walls Could Talk, "the palace management would have crosses chalked onto the walls in the hope that people would be reluctant to desecrate a religious symbol."

To fix the problem, King Henry VIII constructed a giant toilet block by the River Thames called the Great House of Easement. (The king was no slouch at deploying the occasional euphemism either.) The toilet had two levels and could seat 28 people at one time. As a common space, it had no stalls and no walls and greatly resembled the other public toilets in England, which were basically glorified benches with holes cut through them. (In London, there was an impressive 128-seater called Whittington's Longhouse, which was divided into two sections for men and women.)

The only thing arguably worse than using the Great House of Easement was cleaning it. The communal privy led to a tank that, after the King's festivities, had to be scrubbed by a group of king-appointed boys known as Gong Scourers. In 1995, Simon Thurley—then-curator of Historic Royal Palaces—told The Independent, "After the court had been here for four weeks, the brick chambers would fill head-high."

Cleaning your home's toilet doesn't seem like such a chore after all, does it?

SECTIONS

arrow
LIVE SMARTER