Member-only story
Prepping for poopers
Build Your Outhouse BEFORE the Shit Hits the Fan
Where will you take your post-apocalyptic poops?
My dad is building an outhouse. Well, he’s rebuilding one.
It’s not for himself. It’s for his mother-in-law, a lady in her 90s who still lives on the family farm. My dad married into that family several years after my mother passed away, and I’ve never been there, but we’ve all agreed that should civilization break down, it would be a good place to ride out the post apocalypse.
There’s a big garden space, a well, plenty of timber for firewood and there’s an outhouse.
Well, there was an outhouse.
Then the storm hit.
A storm went through recently and did some damage, and the insurance paid toward repairing some of the damaged structures. It did not, for some reason, cover the outhouse, which had been utterly destroyed. This is an outrage, right? (Check your homeowners policy right now. Insist on outhouse coverage.)
Fortunately, my dad was willing to rebuild the outhouse for her.
He chuckled as he described the process. It’s not going to be a thing of beauty; he’s using whatever bits he had around and is cobbling the thing together. But…
