Morris had a bad foot due to an encounter with a land mine on a Pacific island during WWII.
The first day of hunting season, every year, Steve would take Morris to a deer trail next to an old apple orchard. Morris would sit on a metal 5 gallon pail turned upside down with a kerosene lantern under it and a blanket wrapped around him to keep warm. Most years he would get his deer there.
Anyway, late one fall evening we were in the camp when Morris had the need to use the outhouse. A few minutes later we heard a crash and a lot of cussing in French with some English here and there. We went out to investigate.
Steve's outhouse had rotted in the back more than the front, and had leaned to the rear. He had propped it up with a white birch stick. White birch rots faster than most other woods. The outhouse was now on its' back with Morris trapped inside. After Steve got done laughing enough to get on his tractor, he drove around in back of the outhouse and uprighted it with the front bucket.
Steve shut off the engine, leaving the bucket up to prop up the outhouse. Morris finished what he had gone into it for and emerged, showering Steve with many choice words in French and English. We all had a good laugh and returned to the camp.