25
SPRING
2015
ESCARPMENTMAGAZINE
.
CA
|
It stoodat thecornerofmy front yard, the
consummateeyesore.
Itscurlingshingles, crackedvinyl
sidingandplywooddoorbarelyhanging from thespring
loadedhinges.When friendswouldcomeover Iwasalways
asked, “What thehell is that?”
“Myouthouse.” Iwould reply.
“Whydoyouhaveanouthouse?”was thenextquestion.
“It camewith theproperty.” Iwouldanswer.
“Whydid theyhaveanouthouse?”The inevitablequestion.
“Apparently theyused tohavebighorseshoe tournamentsand
peoplewouldcampouton the frontyard, so theyput inanout-
house”. Thehonestanswer.
Thatwouldevokeeither, “gross”or“cool”,dependingon the
personand theirpredisposition topartyingand throwingmetal
objects.
As farasouthousesgo, thisonewas fairlynice. Ithadabuilt-in
sink thatwaseasilyattached toagardenhose. Therewasa
thin layerof foamboard insulation,although I can’t imagine
thatdidmuchsince therewasagapingholeat thebusiness
endof things.Whoknows,maybe the toilet seatandcover
providedsome typeofairtight seal,but I reallydoubt that. The
actual ‘plumbing’ systemwasn’t justaholedug into the
ground—therewasspace toslide insome typeof container to
catch ‘everything’. Thankfully, ithadbeen removedbefore I
bought theproperty,and for themostpart theouthouse looked
prettyclean, especiallyaftera freshcoatofpaint.
It sat fora fewyears—unusedand fallingapart—thedoor
eventually rippingoffand the raccoons tearingat the insula-
tion. Ididn’t knowwhat Iwanted todowith it,but itwassturdy
andwellbuilt so I figured itwouldbeawaste to just knock it
down. Ididhowever considerhow fullapropane tankmight
have tobe inorder toblow the littleeyesore tosmithereens.
Another thoughtwas to transform it intoagardenshed—great
storage for rakes, shovelsandothermiscellaneous itemsbut
thatmeantmoving it:abigproduction.So, it simplybecamea
somewhat embarrassing, conversationpiece.
☛
