We
finally got it done. The old outhouse is history. We burned it, and nothing bad happened.
For
its first 83 years, the farmhouse had no plumbing, making the outhouse a fact
of living in this place. When I was a child, its location was north of the
house behind the woodshed facing east. The folks who lived here referred to its
use as “going north.” My mother watched over my going north with great care so
that I didn’t fall through the hole.
When
I was still a very little girl, my dad moved the outhouse. It was essentially
in the same location but turned to face west and perhaps moved a little farther
north.
When
I was older – 10 or so – and we stayed here at the farm during harvest, I could
manage my own “going north” except in the middle of the night. I would awaken
my mother to accompany me through the eerie, shadows.
When
remodeling of the house began in 1998, the outhouse was again in use. Then the day came that
I pushed on the door and it wouldn’t open. I heard the telltale rattle of
snakes and screamed for Mike. I held the dog while he extracted two
rattlesnakes. Neither Hallie nor I entered that place again. Before long
we had indoor plumbing anyway.
So,
now we had an aging dilapidated outhouse on the property. I know – some folks
do cute, clever things with their outmoded outhouses, such as painting them
bright colors and using them for potting sheds or something, but it wasn’t
going to happen here. And then we drove in one spring to find the outhouse had
toppled over and was sitting on its roof. At first we laughed, but it was an eyesore, and in 2012, as
we hosted a party to celebrate our “century farm” status, I wanted it gone. It
didn’t happen that year, though we managed to pull it over so that it was on
its side instead of its top.
Yesterday
(Monday, June 9) was the day. Mike had called in advance for the necessary burn
permit. The outhouse sat in the midst of tall green grass which Mike predicted
wouldn’t burn. I was skeptical. Discussion ensued. Mike said we had to do it
before conditions became any drier – and on that point we agreed and proceeded.
Armed
with matches, diesel, and some wastepaper, we approached the tumbled-down
outhouse. The fire started readily and the old dry wood burned in a hurry.
Did
the fire spread? Was it a “Mickey Warnock” experience? Well, almost.
We failed to take into account the dry pine straw underlayment and yes, the
fire attempted to spread, creeping along under the grass. However, we had hoses
connected to both the house and the cistern, and there’s a firebreak between
the yard and the field. We were able to control it.
And
that’s all. And that’s that. And the next time you come, perhaps it will just be tall
green grass where the outhouse once stood. Gone – and no visible evidence that
it was ever there -- the last vestige of an era long over anyway. KW
8 comments:
Yay!! (I've never been an outhouse fan.)
Oh, what a crappy deal!! hahaha! :)
I missed this one! Good photo of Pepper looking curiously at Dad's activity. That outhouse creeped me out 100%. Everything about it. The trip through the tall grass, the possibility of snakes, the TWO holes, and the cold air on my bum, spiders...the list could go on. Good bye, outhouse!
I think I really avoided taking pictures out that way because of that old eyesore. Admittedly, though, it isn't the most interesting view the property offers. I was thinking that it really wasn't a very private location, but then I remembered that for the first 50 years access was over the hill from June's rather than the lane.
I don't know where the outhouse was for the old house.
I remember moving the outhouse when the hole was full of ---. We dug until we hit hardpan and couldn't get through it with a crowbar. We finally made a hole and put in a half-stick of dynamite. That was what was referred to a "dupont spinner" for fishermen. It worked rather well and we continued down another two or three feet. The new outhouse was much better than the old one, and lasted many years. Sorry it had to go. The same fate happened to the house at the Melrose farm. Diesel and a little paper, and whoosh, it's gone.
Hi Chuck! We've been awaiting your comment. I knew you'd be here sooner or later.
Very interesting history. What year did you move the outhouse -- 1950-what? And was the outhouse we burned new at that time? Or did you simply turn the old one?
And Hallie -- I wondered if you would notice Pepper. I tried to get one of Nellie, who was cowering at the far corner of the barn, but she moved before I had a chance to take it.
I don't remember the exact time--between 1950 and 1954, I think. Yes, we built it from scratch, or rather, scrap lumber from around the barn. It had a nice shingle roof and two holes. I can't remember why two. I can't think of any reason two people would use it at the same time.
Yes, and I remember the old outhouse, so I would narrow it further to '53 or '54. I think the old outhouse was also a 2-seater, but it seems to me one hole was smaller than the other and designated for child-use. That's the only reason I can think of for two places.
Whether or not that was the case, I think it shows exceptionally good reasoning on my part. (LOL)
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