When I was growing up, summers at our cottage on Lake Simcoe were special.
The cottage was different from our home in Weston. We had an outhouse not a bathroom. Our outhouse was behind the cottage. We went out the backdoor of the cottage, up a few stone steps, past a few little cedar trees and there it was.
It was a one-seater and if you left the door open you could see the lake. After doing what you came to do, there was an orange crate with a tin pan on top and a bar of soap. You filled the pan with water from a pail, washed your hands, threw the dirty water on the cedar trees, dried your hands on a towel hanging on a hook on the side of the orange crate and left.
Just about every summer there was a toad lived beside the outhouse. We used to feed the toad shadflies. The shadflies would hatch out of the lake and land on our flagpole. We would pinch their wings and carry them up and feed them to the toad. The shadfly would wiggle and the toad would extend his big tongue and the poor shadfly would be gone. The toad got fatter and fatter.
We never went to the outhouse at night. We had jerries under the bed for those occasions. We never wanted to empty the jerry when we were little but after a while we got used to it.
I can’t say that I miss those summers that there was an outhouse but they certainly served a purpose and were part of summer at the cottage growing up.
If you have a story about summering on Lake Simcoe please send it to me at marjmossman@ rogers.com and I will put it on the blog.
Until next time…