I remember it like it was yesterday … calling home from the hospital to see how my husband was coping with our one-year-old son, on his own, and being surprised when my friend answered the phone.
“Congratulations!” she said. “I hear she’s a beautiful baby girl.”
“Thanks, she is. And it feels great to get her out! What are you doing there?
Babysitting?”
“No, I’m cooking hamburgers,” she said. “All the neighbours are here. We’re building
you an outhouse!”
“No way! That’s so nice! Thank-you!”
Before that, we just had an “Out,” a big hole in the ground with a wooden box seat, but
no house on top.
“Make sure they don’t put a door on it,” I said. “I want the view and the fresh air.”
“Ten-four,” my friend said.
“And two holes, please,” I added.” One adult one and one kid’s one.”
“Good idea! I’ll go tell them that right away,” she said. “You rest now—and enjoy being
waited on.”
“I will! Thanks again. Bye.”
It’s 30 years later and that outhouse still stands strong. It was made with spruce offcuts from a sawmill that we used to have. The only improvement we have had to make was moving it to a new hole farther from the house, and last year we put on a new tin roof.
We have a flush toilet now, in a real house, but our daughter and her fiancée are
coming to visit soon and will be staying in the bus (that we were living in when she was born) and using the outhouse. So, we decided that it was time to freshen up the inside. I started, this winter, when I ran out of canvases to do my pour paintings on.
I found a scrap of plywood, the right size for a new lid for the outhouse hole and, over a week, created a masterpiece on each side. This spring, I pried off the old seats and used them to make templates on fresh plywood that I had given three coats of paint. The grossest part was replacing the plastic lining that was stapled around the inside of the hole. It helps stop any updrafts and prevents the boys from squirting themselves in the legs through the spaces in the boards. I didn’t realize how complicated peeing can be for men, so we also made the toilet hole a bit longer, to give them more room to adjust their aim.
The only decoration we have ever had is some 45 records hanging on nails through their holes. I left them there and I added two CDs and a plastic lid and plate that I pour-painted last year. Our toiletry shelves are made from two wooden filing boxes we found at the dump, many years ago. They must have been from Forestry because they are labelled “Helicopter Safety” and “Portable Pumps and Water Use.”
Unfortunately, because of the orientation of the shelves, the labels are facing the back of the outhouse so they cannot be seen, but I like knowing they are there. The shelves hold my puzzle book, pencil, glasses, a Chicken Soup for the Soul book, mosquito coils, bug repellent and toilet paper. When the outhouse was first built, we had the toilet paper hanging on a holder, but after a squirrel decorated our yard with it, we put it in a plastic tobacco can where it has lived ever since.
The thing I like best about outhouses is that they don’t stink up your house. The thing I dislike most is that you can’t see the results of your efforts. On that topic, it surprises me that nobody has invented an in-toilet camera or mirrors, to help keep an eye on proceedings. If they had, they might get a picture like the last pour painting I did on the inside of the children’s toilet lid.
I was aiming for a pink flower with brown outlines and a yellow center, but it ended up looking more like an exploding sphincter. That’s the thing with pour paintings; you just never know how they are going to turn out. Check out the video on the What’s Up Yukon website to watch me using a blow-dryer to pour-paint the seat. I added the orange and red highlights after the video
ended, thinking they would brighten up the flower, but I realized later that they highlighted the sphincter instead. Oops. I might paint over it one day but for now it will have to do.
As most Yukoners know, styrofoam makes the best outhouse seat because it never gets too cold to sit on. It is hard to clean, though, so it felt great to replace our old blue seats with clean grey ones. The last step was putting hinges on the lids. The whole process took months, but the result looks great and will be enjoyed for years.
