Covid TP Blues
April 1, 2020, was the day that Covid worries really came to our farm! “Half of the stores in Minnesota and Wisconsin are out of toilet paper and the rest are limited customers to 4 rolls each,” reported WCCO TV news.
We had been hearing rumors of shortages of all sorts of things but toilet paper was the first one that really struck us as an emergency. Having our own rural septic system that has a tortuous path to the tank and drainfield, we knew that any substitute for TP would clog the pipes and bring the bathroom activities to a messy halt.
“We have 4 rolls left,” I reported returning from the bathroom closet and immediately began worrying as did millions of other folks, some who got up right then and drove to the store and emptied the rest of the shelves while folks like me just put it on the list for the next shopping trip. That proved to be too late to get any.
I found two more rolls in the camper, one with the camping equipment and 3 at the lake cabin and two at the museum closed for winter. We were good for a few weeks with 11 rolls I figured, barring getting Covid of the bathroom urgency type.
I instituted strict rationing – “just like meals you get 3 squares a day” I announced seeing myself as one of those brave ship captains in charge of life rafts eking out the water and food. However, there was an instant mutiny by the crew..
“Well, when I was growing up on the farm,” I told Margo, “we never used TP, just the outhouse and the Sears catalog. We can do that again now if need be. I will just sweep out the old outhouse and we can use that.”
I remember when Dad built a brand new outhouse in 1949 following all of the guidelines for a “privy” on a Grade A dairy farm – concrete foundation, fly proof, ventilated, etc. We only used it 5 years before indoor plumbing came. I remembered it fondly as the place where I studied the underwear section in Sears to get my education in human anatomy. In 2020, it still stood firmly planted on the original foundation, looking ready for use, although unused for nearly half a century.
A closer inspection showed the roof shingles were old and had leaked through rotting the small peaked roof boards and one side. I spent 3 days tearing off the roof and one wall, replacing them and adding complete new metal roof. I scrubbed it with bleach and soap and readied the open house. The weekly Advertiser, cut into squares, would substitute for Sears pages.
“We won’t need to worry any more about TP,” I bragged to Margo as I showed off the refurbished Grade A privy. Margo was pleased “If you use the outhouse, and I use the bathroom, we can go for months.” And that is what happened until the TP hoarders ran out of closet room 6 months later. I found the outhouse fine, but it was nice to be indoors on those -25F mornings.
