Composting Human Waste: A Personal Experience

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This unhappy gopher just had an introduction to the process of composting human waste.
This unhappy gopher just had an introduction to the process of composting human waste.
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On the search for gopher holes!
On the search for gopher holes!

Composting Human Waste Becomes One Family’s Alternative to Frostbitten Bums  . . .

My wife has a sensitive bottom. The mere mention of an outdoor privy for our new Canadian homestead set off a case of the quakin’ shivers that lasted a week.

When the old girl’s attack subsided a bit, I tried to reason with her. Seat warmers, insulation, portable heaters, even the beautiful view … I invoked them all (with appropriate flourishes) in a vain attempt to persuade my partner that a frosty privy can be survived.

Still patient, I discussed (and dismissed) all of our alternatives. Septic tanks were wasteful and difficult to install in the thin soil that covers – here and there – our bedrock farm. Chemical toilets were difficult to empty without poisoning the ground. An indoor composting toilet was just fine (and would likely be a part of our long-range plans), but we needed something for the first few “dig in” winters. We needed, I argued with some eloquence, a privy.

My wife is not easily daunted, however. She countered that [a] it would be difficult to toilet-train the children in winter . . . that, in fact, she would revert to diapers rather than sit outside when it’s 30 below, and [b] the porcupine found lurking under the seat of the property’s original outhouse made the thought of even warm-weather visits a prickly proposition, and finally, [c] she would gladly agree to reconsider privies if I would compromise by homesteading in, say, Fiji. That was that.

  • Published on Jan 1, 1979
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