Friday, January 23, 2015


Having been born in 1930 at the start of the depression in the United States, I was able to write this poem drawing from past experience. I was also raised on a farm which meant we were a little behind the “city folks” when it came to modern conveniences. . . . . .

I remember the winters with the cold and snow . . . . Sometimes we didn’t make it all the way to the outhouse.  Besides it was fun to write your initials in the snow…HA!

Enjoy the poem . . . . . . .


 An icon of old is fading away
 It filled a great need in its day
Found in every yard out back
A special purpose little shack

Twas a ritual most every morn
On a foot path so heavily worn
Dreaded by every sleepyhead
That trip to the one-room shed

When entering, one had to be alert
One hornet can mean a world of hurt
The catalog was usually found in there
Could be read or used with care

The wooden door was badly sagging
A rusty spring kept it from banging  
When opened, it made one cringe
At the squeak of an un-oiled hinge

The seat made with the finest pine
Was fitted tightly and sanded fine
A centered hole was cut with care
The future spot of a “bottom”, bare

 A crescent moon for air and light
Was cut on the sides, left and right
Miss the “privy”?  You’re not alone!
Twas such a peaceful place . . . . .
                                                                           . . . .That outdoor throne!
                                                                                             Poem by Herm Meyer


I had a friend, who is now deceased, that had a vacation place on the top of a small mountain within the White Mountains of Arizona. It was a beautiful spot with the tall pines and a view that extended for miles. He had an outhouse (with no door) that overlooked the valley below. . . . .

He called it . . . . . . “CONSTIPATION POINT”


  1. Love your outhouse poem, Herm! Indeed, it seems like a peaceful place (except for the errant hornet!)

    In France I've seen those "toilettes seches". Always amazed out how fresh they smell! (Beside the toilet, a bucket filled with saw dust or coffee grounds is kept. You scoop this into the toilet et voilĂ ... It's "flushed"... Until it's time to empty the main bucket below the seat....

    Happy weekend to you and Sharron.


    1. Thanks Kristin,

      I don’t remember any buckets . . . Just a deep hole below the outhouse. That’s why they were kept a distance away from the house and its nearby well and the drinking water.

      Interesting trivia…..In pioneer towns there were sometimes separate outhouses for men and women. The women’s sandbox had the half-moon window and the men’s had a star for the window. Apparently the men preferred to the wide open spaces and eventually the star windows disappeared.


  2. Herm, when I was a child in northern Kentucky and southern Ohio, we had an outhouse also. I remember those trips through the snow to the outhouse, and shivered a bit knowing what was awaiting me. Mom and Dad had a chamber pot in their bedroom so they wouldn't have to make a trip in the middle of the night. I didn't have a chamber pot -- I was young and just held it.....Jim