The Outhouse

Discussion in 'Other Reminiscences' started by Faye Fox, Dec 20, 2021.

  1. John West

    John West Very Well-Known Member

    Aug 26, 2021
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    Ran across the picture and thought it appropriate for this thread.


    There's a joke in there somewhere.
  2. Faye Fox

    Faye Fox Veteran Member

    Aug 31, 2019
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    Here is a poem I wrote back in the day living off the grid in the Oregon mountains

    Snow and twenty below bring thoughts of monkeys made of brass
    And dreams of spring with cattle grazing on the tall green grass
    It was the day before Christmas, nothing was stirring, not even a mouse
    The call of nature called number two, I hadn't yet shoveled to the old outhouse

    Even though I had donned my thigh-high wool stockings with care
    My mind worried and fretted, could I shovel fast and safely get there
    Then all of a sudden to my eyes what should appear
    But a 6-foot-high drift at the privy door, my worst fear

    With vim and vigor, I shoveled like a crazy woman with no pose
    Only to get inside to find the seat lid iced and froze
    As I gingerly lowered my cheeks on the frozen fog
    I saw no TP, nothing except the emergency Sears catalog :mad:

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