Smallest Space Lived in Happily

[Alan]

OK Alan, now you can't just leave us hanging without telling us the story of the fire.

Probably went there to have a forbidden cigarette and got preoccupied with looking at the Sears Catalogue

I think I told this story here once before but I'm happy to tell it again.

We lived way out in the middle of nowhere Missouri surrounded by cotton fields and the occasional soybean crop. Our outhouse was attached to a fairly large shed which also doubled as a chicken coop, there was a 55 gallon drum behind the shed which we used to burn trash. My mother sent me out with a paper bag filled with household trash and one kitchen match to burn it with. One of the items in the bag was a pair of pants that had apparently been patched enough times to not bother with another. When I started the trash fire, one leg of the pants was hanging over the edge of the barrel and I noticed that the leg which was inside was burning nicely. I grabbed the outside leg and pulled the burning leg out of the drum and waved the pants around over my head a few times just watching the flames. Now of course a burning section of fabric separated itself from the pants and flew into a pile of straw against the back wall of the shed and before I knew it, the entire shed and accompanying outhouse were in flames.

The closest fire department was about 20 miles away and we didn't have a phone to call them anyway. That fire did empty the fields for miles around as farm workers abandoned their work and headed towards the smoke they could see in the distance. All those fine folks began a bucket brigade from our well to the house, keeping it doused well enough to keep it from burning too.

My dad was picking cotton in Texas that month and it took nearly a week before one of his uncles showed up with a hammer, a saw and a box of nails to construct a new outhouse out of scrap wood. That thing was ugly, drafty and leaked terribly when it rained, but it beat nothing.

[razz]

I think I told this story here once before but I'm happy to tell it again.

We lived way out in the middle of nowhere Missouri surrounded by cotton fields and the occasional soybean crop. Our outhouse was attached to a fairly large shed which also doubled as a chicken coop, there was a 55 gallon drum behind the shed which we used to burn trash. My mother sent me out with a paper bag filled with household trash and one kitchen match to burn it with. One of the items in the bag was a pair of pants that had apparently been patched enough times to not bother with another. When I started the trash fire, one leg of the pants was hanging over the edge of the barrel and I noticed that the leg which was inside was burning nicely. I grabbed the outside leg and pulled the burning leg out of the drum and waved the pants around over my head a few times just watching the flames. Now of course a burning section of fabric separated itself from the pants and flew into a pile of straw against the back wall of the shed and before I knew it, the entire shed and accompanying outhouse were in flames.

The closest fire department was about 20 miles away and we didn't have a phone to call them anyway. That fire did empty the fields for miles around as farm workers abandoned their work and headed towards the smoke they could see in the distance. All those fine folks began a bucket brigade from our well to the house, keeping it doused well enough to keep it from burning too.

My dad was picking cotton in Texas that month and it took nearly a week before one of his uncles showed up with a hammer, a saw and a box of nails to construct a new outhouse out of scrap wood. That thing was ugly, drafty and leaked terribly when it rained, but it beat nothing.

Interesting account. I didn't realize that cotton was grown that far north into Missouri. It would be an educational experience for you to go through. How old were you then?

[Alan]

Interesting account. I didn't realize that cotton was grown that far north into Missouri. It would be an educational experience for you to go through. How old were you then?

I was 7 or 8 at the time and yes, cotton was and still is grown in S/E Missouri.

[frugal-one]

I think I told this story here once before but I'm happy to tell it again.

We lived way out in the middle of nowhere Missouri surrounded by cotton fields and the occasional soybean crop. Our outhouse was attached to a fairly large shed which also doubled as a chicken coop, there was a 55 gallon drum behind the shed which we used to burn trash. My mother sent me out with a paper bag filled with household trash and one kitchen match to burn it with. One of the items in the bag was a pair of pants that had apparently been patched enough times to not bother with another. When I started the trash fire, one leg of the pants was hanging over the edge of the barrel and I noticed that the leg which was inside was burning nicely. I grabbed the outside leg and pulled the burning leg out of the drum and waved the pants around over my head a few times just watching the flames. Now of course a burning section of fabric separated itself from the pants and flew into a pile of straw against the back wall of the shed and before I knew it, the entire shed and accompanying outhouse were in flames.

The closest fire department was about 20 miles away and we didn't have a phone to call them anyway. That fire did empty the fields for miles around as farm workers abandoned their work and headed towards the smoke they could see in the distance. All those fine folks began a bucket brigade from our well to the house, keeping it doused well enough to keep it from burning too.

My dad was picking cotton in Texas that month and it took nearly a week before one of his uncles showed up with a hammer, a saw and a box of nails to construct a new outhouse out of scrap wood. That thing was ugly, drafty and leaked terribly when it rained, but it beat nothing.

He is pulling your leg.

[iris lilies]

He is pulling your leg.

Interesting.

which part is not true?

[jp1]

He is pulling your leg.

It seems reasonable to me. My grandparents bought a farm in rural Missouri in the late 50's that still had an outhouse. They used it for a few years until they had enough money to add the second tiniest bathroom onto the house that I've ever seen. (The tiniest being the one in the 250 sq foot apartment I lived in for 12 years in Manhattan.) That farmhouse was a step up from the house they'd lived in in the nearby city, which my dad grew up in, which didn't even have running water. Only a handpump well in the back yard.

[iris lilies]

There is a house in Hermann, now owned by the state of Missouri as an historic site, that was occupied by the same family from the time it was built in the early 1800s. The last member of the family live there until the 1970s. She never had an indoor bathroom.

[Yppej]

Maybe what some find incredible is that there was no government AKA fire department to ride to the rescue and people solved the problem of the fire themselves.

[jp1]

As to the original question of how much space, my 250 sq foot apartment was fine when I moved in. I didn't have much stuff and I was more interested in all the things that I could do in the city than I was in living in a nicer, larger space. By the time I moved out I had definitely outgrown it. I had acquired two computers, a tv, vcr and dvd player, and most importantly taken up beer brewing, which requires a fair amount of equipment and space to store 100 beer bottles. Now we live in a 1600 sq foot townhouse and I love all the space. It's nice having a dedicated office, and rooms big enough that we actually have walls that don't have furniture against every inch the way we did in our 1200 sq foot apartment in San Francisco.

As far as bathrooms, we have 2 1/2 now with only one sink in each. We've never had two sinks in the master and I don't really see the point. But we've lived in places that had 2 or 1 and they were fine. Having more is nice, but not necessary, because once the cats are ready to inhabit the whole house we can put their litterbox in an infrequently used one so that we don't have to deal with the annoyance of a litter covered floor every time we use the bathroom. And I don't see the point of large bathrooms. It's just wasted space that has to be cleaned, and it means that the room will still be cold when one gets out of the shower.

I tend to agree with Iris on extra space. We actually use all of our space, but if it were just me I wouldn't need nearly as much space. I wouldn't need a separate den if I lived alone. Or a separate office. I would just use the living room for all non-sleep activities and the bedroom for sleeping. The smaller but more lovely apartment Teacher Terry mentions sounds perfect for one person. And having her son sleep in the living room when he visits seems reasonable. Obviously they get along and I assume that he won't be sleeping until noon while visiting, etc. If he will, then yes, maybe a place with at least a second bedroom would make sense.

[Teacher Terry]

That’s funny Alan)