Rob Johnstone, Biffy Builder

While I can only enumerate a total of four outhouses that I have built in my life, I hereby challenge anyone to claim to have built more. (I won’t be holding my breath ...) 

To those who have no experience with outhouses, sometimes called biffies, or even “euphemisms” (as in “hold up, I am going to use the euphemism”), are used to, as some medical professionals sometimes say, “evacuate your bowels”. (Editor’s note: Who might be in there, how they got there and what leads to them being evacuated is an entirely different subject.) 

While indoor plumbing has whittled down the number of active outhouses in America (a change I am heartily in favor of), they still remain a necessity in some more rustic locals. And it is for those locations that I have built my biffies. The “up north” cabins of my close relatives. 

I can say without false pride, each time I have constructed an outhouse I have learned and with that knowledge have modified and improved my design with the next build. As one would expect, ventilation is a key for summertime use but not as important as in the winter when the effluent is frozen. One important upgrade from my first design is an extended platform that not only keeps the door from possibly swinging into the ground or other obstructions, but also makes it easier to tilt the whole biffy to the side when shoveling out a hole that has become full. An extended roof is another improvement that allows a fellow the opportunity to stay dry as he stands proud surveys the world after a successful outhouse outing, even if it is raining. 

My sister Georgia requested a two-part door so that one could both use the outhouse and yet observe nature with modesty. I confess that observing the natural world while using an outhouse is a lovely experience that one needs to experience to truly appreciate. 

While I cannot actually say I am actively looking for the chance to build another outhouse, I will not shirk from my duty should it arise. Speaking of updated design, I created my last biffy in a “flat pack” version that a certain Scandinavian company would admire.  

Some people build architectural temples, others work to cure cancer. My lot is a humbler one, and yet to those in need of their function, they are a fine thing indeed.