WINTER PRIVY
The Isolation Blues;
reflections during covid-19
One of the essential components of a viable backwoods homestead is a functional four-season privy. And while there are no two designs alike they all get the same job done. A dug-pit system is probably the most common used years ago on family farms, camps and in most State parks. I remember the State of Maine DOT still had outhouses on the I-95 system as recently as 1983. When I designed my backwoods privy I decided to use a container system which consisted of a two and a half gallon plastic bucket under the bench. The hinged lid on the bench allows you to remove and dump the container before it gets too stinky. Talking to my father I was surprised to find out they used a container system on their homestead when he was growing up back in the 1920s. They had two large wooden drawers they would rotate. The drawer sat under the two-holer and when it was full a work horse would hook on to it and haul it to the compost pile. By the time the next drawer was full, it would be ready to go for another round. When I built the backwoods privy I didn’t have access to electricity so the project was completed with hand tools and a handy chain saw. (This was not a precision job.) My father was amused by the whole endeavor and while he didn’t offer to help he never failed to add wry commentary. In all his years he had never seen an outhouse with a front porch! Technically my privy design is a one-hole, but I think my Dad appreciated the way I used one of his old metal potato planter seats as a “reading-room seat” for the next person in line waiting to use the facility. It seemed important to me to create a space where people weren’t in too much of a hurry and if you forgot to bring your own reading material there would be plenty provided on the walls or around you while you waited. I felt the privy space (besides being practical) should almost be like a shrine; a place to collect and honor memories, people, cultural and local icons, poetry, art and odd objects.
As I finished the project and was packing my tools, Dad stood back, looked it over real close and said, “While I’ve never seen someone take so much time building one, I must say, it’s a solid shit house, son…”
I took that as a compliment.
Here is a poem written about the backwoods privy experience in winter. References in the poem note objects tacked to the wall or part of the privy environment:
Winter Privy This is a cold January day and I’m sitting in the privy at zero degrees contemplating my existence in this transitory cosmos; this hunk of rock we call our planet hurdling through space at dizzying break-neck speed going who knows where with the rest of this collective galaxy spinning as we go like the Daily Planet on top of Superman’s old office building. I hold on to the toilet seat a little tighter. The privy is quiet this time of year insulated in snow deep-freeze environment snow blown in through the cracks by the door frozen shit in a plastic bucket life size Bogart poster standing in the corner smoking the same cigarette he was smoking last summer a giant cardboard pickle frozen to the wall an Uncle Sam political pin - hatred feeds war breeds fear fuels hatred feeds war a ten dollar Buddha from a flea market in Portland content in the cold a lit candle isn’t much of a heat source incense burning in the still air mingled with breath coming out of my mouth and the steam coming out of the hole actually this is not the best time of the year or the place for prolonged recollection you do what you came to do and get the hell out you have to think quick if you’re going to think at all seeing my own breath is a good sign it means that I’m warmer than most of the things in here Ahhh time to get this job done time to pull my pants up Ahhh the world awaits my grand entry January 17, 1998
In the woods,
Dave
March 9, 2021