The house I grew up in was built by my Father. It was built back a long lane and in a woods. When we first lived in the house it was just the basement with the backside open to a patio area. For a long time that patio was made of big flat limestone slabs, a look that is very popular today in fact. Sometime years later it became a concrete patio. Nice for skates!
What I remember most was having to walk to the Outhouse. We didn't have a indoor bathroom for several years, although I can't say how many. It was a long walk after dark before bed. It was a cold walk in the winter. I remember being the one that had to take my little sister down if she need to go in the middle of the night. This made sense because we share a bedroom and a double bed. No way I could not take her! The Outhouse was made of wavey roofing tin, nothing fancy, two holes, one bigger than the other. There was always some reading material, I'm pretty sure it was for reading.
My Dad was a bit of a prankster and I remember the time my Grandmother came for a visit. My Father thought it would be fun to shoot birdshot at the metal outhouse while my Grandmother was inside. I can say for sure my Grandmother wasn't in there very long! She was so mad at him! Of course, it became one of those stories they liked to tell years later. I think everyone laughed even my Grandmother.
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