No Northern or Charmin!

I was so excited! Mother was having Dad haul in lug after lug of peaches. It was time to can peaches for the winter.
The lugs of peaches were stacked in the dining room so that Mom could sort through them and take out the ripe ones. She would let us eat some of the ripe ones, and can the rest. The ripening process took about a week.
Dad would get out his crow bar and open the lugs which were thin pieces of wood that were nailed to one by two’s. These were the cartons that held the peaches. Each peach was wrapped with soft tissue paper.
Mother was very fussy about the peaches that she bought. If I remember correctly they had to be number two peaches. That was the size of the fruit. They were about the size of a baseball.
Nothing went to waste, not even the tissue paper. Especially the tissue paper. Each peach was unwrapped as it ripened, the tissue paper was smoothed out and stacked in a little pile. The pile of tissue paper was then taken to the outdoor privy or outhouse.
I think of my daughter’s large home with four bathrooms compared to the home I was raised in with no bathrooms. We also had no toilet paper. The peach tissue paper was exciting for a little girl that hated using the paper from the catalogues we would get in the mail. As I am writing this, I am sitting here chuckling. No one can imagine how I hated that outhouse. It was hot, smelly, but most of all the things I hated most in the world loved to live there; wasps.
My cousin, Bonnie, reminded me awhile back how Mother would use our whole name when she was irritated with us. Mother would use my whole name when I sneaked in the bedroom and used the porcelain potty instead of going outside. Of course, I wouldn’t tell her, and she might find it a day or so later. Oh, she would get so angry. I could never figure that out. I put the lid on it.
The outhouse was a long ways away from the house, so in the winter time we had to put on coats and hats and boots to walk out there. In the summer time it was a speed race to do the job and run out of the thing before you got stung by a wasp. There was not a good time to use the outhouse. The only saving grace was that I did not hear my mother use my whole name when I was a good girl and used the outhouse.