Outhouse-ing

Good morning, I'd like to introduce you to our nice, new bathroom. It's our own, personal, portapotty. Cool, huh? Don't you wish you had one, too? They're pretty reasonable-- $77 a month!

See where it's standing? Right there up against our privacy fence, and when our preeverted neighbor saw it being delivered, he used language that I can't print because it would make my keyboard bleed.

At first I wasn't happy about all this. Okay, I'm STILL not happy about all this. But then I started thinking how lucky we are to be able to have a place to live and a place to potty. We're Catholic, and Catholics are big on "offering it up", all the stuff that makes life a pain. Usually we're supposed to "offer it up" for "the poor souls in Purgatory," but we can choose a particular designee, if we'd prefer.

So, I decided to offer up this tremendous inconvenience (no water, an outhouse) for all the hurricane victims who had NO PLACE to belong. I haven't forgotten them! So many had NO PLACE to return, either, once people started being allowed to go back. So many STILL have no place to belong. Compared to those people, I'm in the lap of luxury. And "tremendous," in comparison, seems too strong a word.

I'm not real great at not bitching, though, and this is supposed to only take a "couple days." So I'm bracing myself for a "couple weeks." Better to be conservative that way, I think.