The Outhouse Chronicles |
Outhouses sure bring back a few memories. Memories of a winter
spent in Valleyview Alberta about the late nineties, when the mercury just
buried itself in the bottom of the bowl, it must have been way below 50.
The only accomodation for natures call was a outhouse about 100 yards from
the house. Boy was that a experience to remember. Also in my memory is
the fact that we lived in co-existance with the outhouse for the first
12 years of my life. It was quite a experience when my sister lost her
favorite rubber "oh
larie oh" ball down the old 2 holer, and the hazardous rescue operation
of lowering fat Jules down into that hole to recover the ball.
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| Mood Music for the reading of the Outhouse Chronicles |
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Outhouse Stories at Their Best |

Mr. President and Gentlemen :
You've heerd a lot of pratin' and prattlin' about this bein'
the age of specialization. I'm a carpenter by trade. At one time I could
of built a house, barn, church or chicken coop. But I seen the need of
a specialist in my line, so I studied her. I got her; she's mine. Gentlemen,
you are face to face with the champion privy builder of Sangamon County.
Read the whole Best
Selling Novel Here (It's only a few pages but packed with info) |
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Real Working Man Outhouses |
I found these outhouses in the Wells Barkerville Area in June of 2006. (click on any picture for a larger view |
A Two holer and a one Holer. Notice it must have been Men working as the seats are up....  |
 Tested and in working condition |
Air Conditioned by Collerator and take a look at the warning
label. |
This was one modern camp as off in the bushes was the modern
shower facilities. |
Working Recreational
Outhouses |
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At the cottages in Francois Lake they have built up
beautiful Garden areas and right smack in the middle is the most important
tool needed for a busy gardener, next to the shovel and rake of course!
This one comes complete with Half moon and the optional bluebird.
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| This single holer may not look too fancy but it has patio
lights which light the trail for that hazardous night sabatical
when it is so dark in the bush. This one also has a guestbook
and great reading material which sets it apart from the normal
run of the mill bluebird special. |
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The
Outhouse and Us
-- by Stan Paregien, Sr. -- Copyright 1996 -- |
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I'll never forget the Halloween of 1956
That's when the Jones boys and me got into a fix.
It's not that we were outlaws, don't you see?
We just found the curse of Washington's cherry tree.
Bueford and Marvin and I decided to have some fun.
So we slipped over to the Palmer place, 'bout half-past one.
The yellow Halloween moon shone brightly in the sky.
When we turned their outhouse over, quietly on the sly.
When pa asked me about it, I said:"I cannot tell a lie.
"I helped push the Palmer's outhouse over "and took off
on the fly."
"Bend over, boy," pa said, taking that big razor strap
down.
"Time for you to learn that on such foolishness I frown."
"But pa," says I with tears falling down like summer
rain,
"When George Washington told the truth, his father inflicted
no pain."
"You and George both told the truth," pa said, "On
that I agree."
"But when George did his hatchet job, his neighbor wasn't in
the tree."
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The Outhouse
by John Hill |
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When I was a young man, away back when
We had things that you don't know about...then.
An outhouse was something you couldn't do without
Each home had one near about.
This was a little wooden house down a path..out back.
The door was kept closed by a latch, held with a tack.
Here let say, if the door was closed
It was for how long, nobody knows.
This house was referred to as a two holer or one holer
Which meant that there were two or one hole cut in the seat
No place could be any hotter, or colder, and it wasn't too neat
When the snow was on the ground and frost on the seat
And in the night you heard the sound of hurried feet
You're thankful, it's not you that has to hurry
If so, down the path you go icy cold...vision blurry.
It doesn't take long (when turned to the North star)
To realize just where you are.
On the seat was a catalog with pages turned down
From this, you took a page with a frown
You took care of the paper work, then up, and on your way
It didn't take long to get back in bed, you hope to stay.
You really don't realize what an experience this can be,
Unless, you could have been there with me.
Well, I guess we had to have this, so that,
We can appreciate today, knowing where we use to sat.
(Copyright 1997)
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THE OUTHOUSE POEM |
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The service station trade was slow
The owner sat around,
With sharpened knife and cedar stick
Piled shavings on the ground.
No modern facilities had they,
The log across the rill
Led to a shack,marked His and Hers
That sat against the hill.
"Where is the ladies restroom, sir?"
The owner leaning back,
Said not a word but whittled on,
And nodded toward the shack.
With quickened step she entered there
But only stayed a minute,
Until she screamed,just like a snake
Or spider might be in it.
With startled look and beet red face
Just like three gals before.
She missed the foot log - jumped the stream
The owner gave a shout,
As her silk stockings, down at her knees
Caught on a sassafras sprout.
She tripped and fell - got up,
and then In obvious disgust,
Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,
And faded in the dust.
Of course we all desired to know
What made the gals all do
The things they did,and then we found
The whittling owner knew.
A speaking system he'd devised
To make the thing complete,
He tied a speaker on the wall
Beneath the toilet seat.
He'd wait until the gals got set
And then the devilish tike,
Would stop his whittling long enough,
To speak into the mike.
And as she sat, a voice below
Struck terror, fright and fear,
"Will you please use the other hole,
We're painting under here!" |
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