Reply #3: Story time: [View All]

[Mira]

when I was 16 I spent a summer in Sweden.
I was at a summer camp, and they had an outhouse like that, but no Lac Leman under it, just the big deep smelly receptacle.
One day I could not find my, thick cardboard, return railroad ticket to my home.
I was a skinny one, and my Dad had not allowed me to wear and own pants (fundamentalist minister)
and I had borrowed pants from a person who was larger than me.

The people there, lots of teens from all over Europe, formed chains holding hands and we combed the meadows for the ticket, which I had had in my pants pocket.

To no avail.

Finally it occurred to me it may have fallen out while I was in the outhouse struggling with the too big pants I was not used to wearing.

YUP.
We found it.

It was swollen to an unrecognizable thickness, and stank to high heaven.

I kept it in sunlight the rest of the trip to dry out and de-stench, and when I handed it to the rail road employee in the train I turned beet red and had to avert my face.

He smelled nothing, and acted normal, and needless to say I have a real love-hate relationship with outhouses.

Now don't you love having a post from me with no pictures.
:)