I'm Proud of My Outhouse

I surely have one of the nicest, most women-friendly outhouses in Alaska.

For one thing, it has a door.  A surprising number of such structures lack this feature.  I don’t know if the reason is to increase circulation in order to reduce spiders and flies, or to provide a clear view of a bear approaching at one’s most vulnerable moment, but I insisted on a door.  So, for ventilation, I have two high, screened windows, and additional  vents under the eaves. 

An additional plus is that it is painted.  Most aren’t.  To increase the light load, I painted the interior a cheery, shiny, butter yellow.

Women invariably comment on the décor.  My outhouse lacks magazine pictures of cars, naked women, and animal carcasses tacked to the walls.  Instead, I commissioned two stained glass pieces (of Alaska flowers) from a talented friend to hang within the window frames.  They cast rainbows on the reflective walls. 

Whereas some outhouses just have a hole cut in an increasingly splinter ready plywood bench,  I demanded a real, wooden seat.   You don’t use that in the winter, of course – the wood conducts the cold.  This year, for example, the hoar frost on the inside of the lid didn’t melt until March.  Rather, during the cold season, we keep the seat pitched up in order to sit on a ring of polystyrene, which, by virtue of the air holes, feels, if not warm, at least temperature neutral.

The building includes no magazine racks or funny books.  Let's face it: the building is unheated and uninsulated, so visits tend to be quick and business-like.

Nor does it include potpourri.  Although, come to think of it, I do keep a smoker in there in the summer (to deter black flies).  I wonder if sandalwood would work just as well...

The final advantage is its size.  Compared to some elbow clinging claustrophobic versions I've had to visit, mine is a roomy 4 x 8 with a high ceiling.  It is big enough to accommodate shelves for relevant items, including a jug of water and tin cup in the summer, a cast iron hook shaped like a leaf to hang one’s mittens, and a bin of firewood ash for occasional cupfuls down the hole.

Some people are proud of their cars or their jewelry.  Since I have neither here, I’m pretty darn proud of my outhouse.