The search, then utter horror. Amid a sea
of flowing toilet paper, stood my darling toddler, happily drenched, cramming every
last roll we possessed into the overflowing toilet.
This week's Writer's Post Blog Hop is hosted by Darla at "Blessed Little Creatures". This post was written in response to her prompt. When I was a teenager I visited the
Hermitage plantation in Nashville, Tennessee with my mom and was blown away by
the pure history that surrounded me. If
you listened carefully you could almost hear the whispers of the occupants that
once lived there. It was mind boggling
to realize a hundred years or so before folks were going about their business
in that exact spot. History was being
made. Andrew Jackson himself walked those same paths. He slept in that room and dined at that
table. I wonder if in a hundred years or so down the road if people will wonder about me and what made me tick, where I
slept, what I ate, and how I felt about things.
Even though we were only minutes away from
the bustling metropolis of Nashville, there in that place time had been frozen
as it once was when Andrew Jacksonhad lived.
The slave cabins were intact and even more fascinating…quite a distant
from the house stood the outhouse. It kind of blew my mind at the time because of the way it
was constructed and where. Not only was it quite a jaunt
from the main house, it accommodated three people with three holes. Seriously it was an outhouse built for three.
Not only that, there was absolutely no privacy. My crazy animated mind quickly conjured
up these people of the past sitting side by side taking a crap…together.
Boy, have we come a long way from those days
without indoor toilets with doors and economy sized cans of Febreeze! What I find even more
astonishing is that I know, I just know those folks must have woke in the night
and had to go. That was a hell of a long way to run. I guess folks just did their business in
a china commode right in their room in those days and inhaled the fumes for the rest of the night.
Or I imagine when they were done, they threw it out the window. Watch out
below for flying turds! Maybe that is where the old story my dad used to tell of a man getting killed by a flying turd came from. I wonder! Boy, am I glad I live now in the land of indoor toilets, running water, and ventilation!!
I eagerly anticipated history class in high school
and thoroughly enjoyed it.
I think it is important to learn history because it is only through
learning what happened in the past that we can truly understand and grasp the
present and the future. Like those that came before us, we live, we learn, and
proceed forward with that knowledge.
