Thinking outside the outhouse

When it comes to interior design, I think it’s safe to say not everyone is on par with my skill set. Some may say that’s a good thing, however, I believe it’s worthy of note that some of the world’s most acclaimed artists achieved their fame and acclaim by thinking beyond convention, outside the box as it were, or in this case, outside the outhouse.

Being the passionate repurposer I am, opportunity smacked me right upside the head last week when I peeked inside a collapsed ancient outhouse and observed that the seat, a two holer, was still in remarkably good condition.

It clearly needed rescuing.

An outhouse, to those not familiar, was the outdoor bathroom for homes and businesses before running water, sewers and fancy toilets made the scene. It worked like this. First, you dug a fairly deep pit in the ground, then built a little shack to fit over the pit, installed a wooden seat with a hole in it, and then you went there to take care of business.

In winter you almost froze your you-know-what off. Nevertheless, it got the job done. The more elaborate outhouses, no doubt for rich people, had two holes, one adult size, and one for the kids. Very fancy.

I remember as a kid having to use outhouses with only the adult size depository — you feared falling through — never to be seen or heard from again.

So what are my plans for this elite two-holer?

I’m going to frame it with trim from around the old outhouse door and hang it on my wall. Then I’m going to install tiny hooks at the top of each hole, and hang headshots of people I consider to be most deserving at the time. My sisters for example. Because Mom always loved them best, this is my chance to get even, albeit in a crude sophomoric manner — which just happens to be another of my skill sets. Besides, they both live far away. What could they do?

Seriously, I love my sisters, but that would be funny, and they’d find a way to get even. I was kidding about Mom loving them best. As if. Excellent initial candidates.

Unquestionably, the world of politics offers endless potential material for my magnificent work of art. I can think of one particular politician right now who is very deserving of being featured in both holes, although to honour him properly, it would be more fitting if the holes were OVAL.

Anyways, enough about outhouses and crappy leaders, here’s a feel good story for you.

A few days ago, while working in my backyard, I noticed something sitting on the back of my old grain wagon. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a cell phone. It was covered in dirt and grime and a rather significant bird dropping.

Hmmmmm. Who could this possibly belong to? Took me a couple of days, but I remembered that the truly terrific young woman who house sat for me last fall (she was SO great with my furmily), had lost her cell phone just prior to settling in. I sent her a picture of it and yep, it’s hers. First the phone was hit with that massive October snowstorm, then it froze all winter, got poured on in spring and ultimately sat there for more than eight months.

So this past Monday evening I returned it to her, she charged it overnight, and Tuesday morning she e-mailed me a video of her turning it on, and guess what, it works perfectly. She’s thrilled, even just to get the pictures stored in it if nothing else. In case you’re wondering, it was in an OtterBox — which is apparently indestructable.

Comments or feedback are always welcome.

lmustard1948@gmail.com