Posted on 01/25/2007 5:06:58 PM PST by SJackson
The outhouse, or as I like to call it, the two-holer, is a thing of the past in most places. Some people may consider outhouses to be a taboo subject in a family newspaper, but for the sake of history, someone has to broach the subject! Because there are few, if any, 'sacred cows' in this column, let us begin.
For the younger generations who aren't familiar with them, the outhouse was our bathroom before indoor plumbing, and as the name suggests, it was outside. Most were constructed of wood and were about 4 feet square and 7 feet high. Inside was a 2-foot high box, built into the back half and extending from wall to wall. The top board had two holes cut in it. In our case, one hole was larger than the other. The smaller one was for kids. Unlike some outhouses, our door didn't have any type of hole or half-moon cut into it. A trip to the outhouse to do your duty was not without peril and adventure.
In the summer it seemed that every type of spider was at home there. And why not where better to catch flies for a meal? I always checked the hole before sitting down to make sure a spider hadn't built a web in it. I didn't want a spider biting me on the butt! When I was very young, my folks were renting the Hauge farm. My cousin, Sandy, who was three years older than me, lived with us at that time.
There was a big woodpile next to the outhouse. One day, Dad came into the house, got the shotgun and headed for the woodpile. He shot a huge snake. At least it looked huge to us. I don't remember if it was a rattlesnake, but I suspect it was or he wouldn't have killed it. Nonpoisonous snakes were tolerated, even if we didn't like them.
After that incident, Sandy and I were afraid to go to the outhouse alone in case another huge snake was lying in wait for us. We'd make a big detour around the woodpile. Then one of us stood guard outside the outhouse while the other was doing their business. I don't know what we'd have done if we'd seen a snake. I suspect whoever was on guard would have run screaming to the house, leaving the other trapped inside the two-holer!
We also worried that a snake would get down in the hole below the outhouse and bite us when we sat down. Though I can't imagine why any type of self-respecting, walking, slithering or flying critter would want to venture into that smelly pit!
However, did you hear that Ole accidentally dropped a quarter down the two-holer? He looked down and then threw his billfold in. He told Lena, I'm not climbing down there for just a quarter!' That's a little outhouse humor.
Winter was another story. There's just no comfortable way to sit down on an ice-cold board when it's below zero. You could try to brace yourself with your hands and sort of hover over the hole like a helicopter without touching down, quickly do your business and get out of there without a frost-bitten butt. There was no loitering during the winter months. At least we didn't have to worry about spiders or snakes, but we had other problems.
Those of you who have fought your way through snowdrifts and sub-zero temperatures to reach the outhouse know what it's like. I'll leave a lot of the gory details to your memory and imagination.
During my freshman year in high school, I broke my leg and was on crutches for many months. It was quite an adventure that winter, hobbling through the deep snow to reach the outhouse. Ever try hovering over a hole while balancing on one leg, with the other leg in the cast sticking straight out? Interesting visual, isn't it? I was a sophomore in high school when we finally got indoor plumbing and an indoor bathroom, so I have a little familiarity with the old two-holer. Life became a lot more comfortable after that.
But sometimes I think we need to bring back the two-holer. Life was simpler then. You dug a hole and planted the two-holer over it. The only accessory needed was a Sears Roebuck catalog and you were in business.
Over time, the hole filled up and you simply dug another one, moved the two-holer, and you were ready to go again, so to speak. So simple! Today I have a fancy one-holer with moving parts and running water. Parts that can rust, corrode, drip and that only plumbers can fix at $60 an hour or more!
Sears Roebuck is gone now too, replaced by fancy, soft paper on a roll that you have to buy. Times change. Rules and laws change. Two-holers are replaced by government inspected septic systems. We have city-run and controlled sewer lines that can back up and invade the basement. I don't ever recall the two-holer invading our farm cellar. It wasn't close enough to the house to cause any problems.
Progress? Personally I could still get by with a two-holer and a Sears Roebuck catalog. It wasn't as convenient or comfortable, but life sure was much simpler then.
Of course, there were those spiders and snakes to deal with in the summer and that cold seat in the winter. Maybe I better give this a little more thought!
I was born in 1964. I don't remember us ever having an outhouse at home, though I think a fairish number of rural folks had them then. I have used many an outhouse in national forests on camping trips, though.
I am 48...my grandparents had an outhouse....I just shudder that I am part of the "old timers" history...YUP not only used an out house...but my grandparents would boil water and set up the "tub" for a good old fashion bath...galvanized tub that is...
My parents bought some property on lake Wateree (South Carolina) and they and two other couples set up crude cabins along with a luxury fish cleaning/frying station. The other less-than-luxury "facility" was what they dubbed the Half Moon Hotel. I'll leave that as self-explanatory.
Of course you have to consider the changes from then till now. Who do you know could by lake front property, construct a crude cabin (without obtaining permits) with no running water or paved road, and even construct an out house (still no permits). Construct an out house in your own back yard and see how far you get with the homeowner's association or town council.
That begs the question: are we evolving or devolving. There was a time we could take care of our most necessary functions without permission from the government. Now somebody from the government has to inspect it first.
I'll bet she wishes she hadn't tossed out her chamber pots.
new venue?
Now, the rural outhouse is a novelty item, worthy of restoration.
As for the neighbors, All four kids turned out pretty successful.
Poopin' with spiders ping!
Of course what happens at Deer Camp stays at Deer Camp so I can say no more.
The atmosphere was still the same!
and another stereotype is born!
Look first. Make sure there's no snapping turtles down there on the lookout for worms.
Yes, they'd be fun to post on occasion. I can never find anything for this list. How many articles are there on outhouses. I'm going to see if they're on the web.
My grandparents farm had an outhouse when I was growing up. They had indoor bathrooms too but the old outhouse was still there. We kids used to have fun using it!Yes, we were easily amused!!! LOL!
Choosing between a snapper and a snake isn't something I'd care to do. You're right, look first.
Our shallow well water wasn't really very good, So we relied on a cistern.
You should try a frozen outhouse on the klondike - Fort Greely, Alaska.
No sistern...believe it or not...the city provided drinking water...it was a matter of the house being updated to handle a sewer line, and building an in house bathroom...
My parents never had an outhouse, but my grandparents did, and I married a man in the 1970s whose family still used one. Our generation is probably one of the last to have that experience.
Well, no - I own a cabin now, that is equipped with one.
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