I want an outhouse.
Before you laugh, know that we have been out of plumbing and water for two days now. And the workman haven’t shown up to complete the job. Around 9:30 am is work hours, right?
They’ve been already called this morning, but it’s by my husband. He has more authority with the workmen than I do. I’m just the housewife in their eyes, but they don’t know me much.
I can be the deranged housewife with a butcher knife, but it will be a dirty one because of no water.
They don’t want to push me. My floors have just been redone, they looked beautiful, shiny and clean…and now they appear like the circus has been through. With elephants.
They put these blue footies on when they walk through the house, but for some reason, they aren’t working.
Oh! some of them have appeared, but it is a false warning: they are here to take back some equipment….’borrowing’ it, as they say. And they will bring it back later…Not good.
You step to the front gate and there is a 4 foot x 3 foot (or maybe 4 foot) trench that runs 84 feet into the street. At the end of it is Volvo Ballerina…a big yellow digger that digs with surgical percision. At least they aren’t taking that piece of machinery.
I asked where the crew is and they said back at the office doing paperwork. Well, the rain is moving in, faster than we thought, and the trench can’t get wet or they can’t inspect and close, and we can’t use the fixtures.
I told them to tell the office boys that the Lady of the House is looking rather psychotic right now, and about to go into a rage. LOL!
It would behoove these boys to drop the paperwork for later and get their asses out here and finish the job. The Lady has toilets to flush, dishes and laundry to do, and floors to clean. All take water…lots of water.
I love my husband. I asked him how much is this going to cost us in the end? He tells me ‘it will cost what it costs’. But I have been patient and we have been careful about what we eat because in a very clear way, we are realizing we are the top end of the sewage lines…in fact we are movable sewage systems and I think some days that is all that can be expected.
But back to the outhouse. We are 3 miles from downtown Atlanta, with 9 (denuded ) acres of land behind us. A small, just a modest outhouse , one with a cut out moon and just one seat and lots of lovely lime under it (I think you dig a hole beneath the hole) and maybe painted a forest green so it doesn’t stick out…and planters of flowers outside on each side of the door, and a little shelf with reading material on one wall, and maybe stick on battery powered (or solar powered!) lamps so you can read in the dark, and a firm latch so you can be alone. (cause husbands like to come in and discuss world events with you at the wrong times…)
That would be nirvana. Simple gifts, indeed.
Lady Nyo