I will look at all those good things!

It is snowing a lot here, but it's pretty warm out, so it's not sticking much yet. In my urban life, I went out with no socks on, walked to the bank, then to the nail place, then to the burger place, all within a couple of blocks. I think I was the nail person's only client today and she left while I was still drying, so that seems like it was a good call. I mean, I tipped well. Also, her name tag identified her as a Nail Therapist, which I suddenly saw as Nail The rapist, and had to keep myself from saying to her.

Of course, if I did, someone would surely drunkenly stumble into it and piss on my woodpile.

Well, probably not so much here, but I'm pretty sure there were unauthorized uses of our outhouse in New Mexico. Which I miss. It was a two holer.

I spent 4 years living in rural Maine as a child - we had a woodstove, although (unlike a lot of people we knew) it was not our primary source of heat for the house. I knew plenty of people with outhouses and/or no electricity (gas appliances and lamps) in Maine, actually.

The house I grew up in did have running water and electricity, but the pipes would freeze regularly (or the water delivery truck wouldn't be able to make it), so we would use the outhouse. All the appliances were gas, too, so it was mostly okay when the electricity would inevitably go down. The moose would sleep underneath our satellite dish when it got that snowy, so we wouldn't be able to watch TV, anyway.

My DH grew up in house with a wood stove.

First batch of cookies are almost done. They look good, but if memory serves me right, getting them off the pan and on the rack is the hardest part.

Oh, I forgot - we also had a wood stove in the middle of the living room that got used often.

This house's HOA prevents us from putting up an outhouse, which I resent. So I want to build a woodshed, and put the little cutout in it so it looks like an outhouse. Because I'm an ass like that. But seriously, it is so beyond me how I can be in Arizona so rural there is no road maintenance on one stretch because no one can agree on who owns the road, and yet have homeowners covenants more restrictive than when I lived in downtown Wichita or Indianapolis.

Composting toilet!

When I go all off-grid fantasy land, it always involves a composting toilet, because I hate outhouses with a passion.

Almost as much of one as my hate-on for HOAs.

If I move into my grandmother's apartment, I'll want to find out why she has her fireplace blocked off, when my parents' upstairs works fine. (I'd bet she hates it because of dirtiness.) (I mean, I wouldn't move in their until after she dies, and who knows when that will be -- I still think she could outlive us all.) (But the point is, I would like to have fire in my living room.)

On my wish list for our Forever House are a fireplace, a screened porch, and a really high-quality dishwasher. (On the kids' list are a treehouse, front AND back yard creeks, and a Giant Pacific Octopus living in the back yard creek.)

My fireplace is not really safe to use, so I've nver had a fire. I want to make a custom bookshelf to fit in it.

I did indeed make it to Chicago last night. Eventually and very late. People keep asking me to think and string words together today, which is just cruel.

I grew up with a wood stove. My dad would chop down trees, cut them up with a chainsaw, and we'd haul the logs back to the house with the tractor. Then we'd toss the wood into the log splitter and stack the split wood along the fencerow. We'd haul some of the wood to a basement window, and when the rack by the stove got low, we would stand on a chair to pull more wood inside.