The Queen’s Throne

I’ve been deliriously happy and grateful the last year over something that is well, mmmmmm, kind of unmentionable.

“She isn’t!” (Carol’s voice.)

Yes, I am.

I’m going to share my feelings of gratitude for my new indoor private flush toilet, the one I’ve lived without for 23 consecutive years, 30 total. I feel a little bit like the woman I heard about who couldn’t reach her clothesline so she moved a stool around her entire life. I should have done it sooner, but new septic regulations came with a price tag that was close to $10,000. That’s a lot of money when merely moving a stool around will get the job done. (Word play is such fun.)

Now, you didn’t think for a minute to write TOILET in your gratitude journal, did you? The next time you have to … be grateful, give thanks whenever you:

– answer a knock on your door and you AREN’T holding a bucket of your night waters about to find their way into your compost heap. (Urine is full of nitrogen, speeding up the decomposition of things like egg shells and last week’s lentil loaf—the food experiment that DIDN’T make it into public domain.) I’ve also referred to IT (when asked by a guest if they could carry my bucket for me) as “Oh this? It’s JUST a bucket of LALA,” (liquid activator), adding “no problem a’tall, I’ve got it COVERED.”

– wake up in the middle of the night with … not your dreaming self so much in mind, but nature taking center stage; however, FIRST you DON’T have to pull on your boots, layer up, find a flashlight, walk down 22 snowy and/or icy steps with winter winds howling at you as you stumble along a dark path (another 35 steps), slipping in the snow thinking, “SOMEDAY, I will have it easy like everyone else.”

Everyone else. Isn’t that always what keeps us from true gratitude? Others have it better—better health, more money, less worry, more vacation days … Well, I’d like to point out something you’ve probably missed when you’re feeling less than queenly—your throne! The next time I’m forgetting gratefulness for all the little things that make my life easier, my reminder is now only a few steps away.

Leave a comment 6 Comments

  1. julia hayes says:

    I can’t wait to read about the days to come when we both muse over how grateful we are for a nice healthy poop! Ah yes, indoor plumbing!! Just so you know, the word LALA will forever have a new meaning for me!!! La la la la la la hmm hmm hmm ladee dee la la la!!

  2. Arline Nash says:

    HA! Love it!

    For several of our young parenting years, we lived with no running water (unless you count the BEAUTIFUL river that flowed by), electricity or indoor plumbing! Ohhhhh!! I am grateful for plumbing. But… there are sweet memories of that time. It was GOOD!

    When we moved again and had the “normal” mod-ee cons, again, our boys still called the rest room the outhouse. LOL! It took a while for that to fade.

    Sweet memories. Thank you, MaryJane!

  3. Debbie says:

    Mary Jane,
    You’re a hoot! During Hurricane Irene we were without power for a little over a day. My husband and I chuckled quietly at our 13 year old daughter because she was so focused on the fact that she couldn’t have a shower! I really though her early training from summers at our off grid beach cottage would have better prepared her for the brief inconvenience of no daily shower, but then again she is a typical teen… Hey, we thought we’d made the big time when we got a solar pump to flush our indoor potty at the cottage a few years ago instead of hauling in a bucket when we needed to flush…
    We have a saying on our little beach to remind all visitors how we do things.
    ” If it’s yellow, let it mellow, if it’s brown, flush it down” …
    Glad you have a flusher now too!
    Hugs toall!
    Deb ( your beach farmgirl )

  4. Cindy Baugh says:

    Crap! That was funny!

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  6. Betty Stone says:

    Of course, when you move your little house, it always goes forward, never backward or sideways. Other than having to get up so many times at night now, I could not conceive of using an outhouse. I can remember as a kid on Grandma’s farm, having to go in the middle of the night and walking the block in the dark to it, swishing my flashlight around and seeing multiple “eyes” glowing back at me. Scared me to death, only to find out in the morning that Grandpa had greased his plow and that was what my flashlight was picking up on!

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