I am here to report that I, Priscilla the Queasy, have survived the composted toilet - so far! The real test comes in just three days. I call it THE TEST and it looms like Mt. Everest in my mind. On that day of reckoning, I will turn over the compost drum backwards, dumping (an exacting term) the, ah hem, into the drawer. I then pull out the drawer, and if I do not faint, I get to walk the contents about 100 feet to a path that goes to the PILE.

So far there have been no offensive fumes, no snakes, only a tiny orb spider that freaked out when I opened the door and dive bombed for the trash can. There is a container with peat moss that you sprinkle over the ah hem. The only draw back, and I might change my mind about it, is getting out of bed in the middle of the night when it is raining, going along with a flashlight to the commode. Still it was not that bad although Priscilla confesses, I whimpered a little about it. What a whimp!

It is all a lovely experience so far and a setting like no other. So here is the first unveiling of the compost toilet at the Waters' place:

View from the "John" to the Aspen Grove, back of the Studio:

Composted Preamble

Last weekend I learned that the cabin where I will be living for the next six weeks has no running water, a composted toilet out of doors and an outdoor shower. In short, I completely panicked, got mad and went into a kind of tailspin which amazed me. I had a "hissy fit" as we used to say in the south! It was embarrassing what a spoiled brat I became instantly with this news.

I am an environmental educator, proponent of sustainable living and the writer's residency at the cabin supports writing a novel describing how Americans learn to live in harmony with nature's ways! I never dreamed I would be among the Super Whiners until I was caught by surprise that I get to live this experience for the next six weeks!

Some, previously unknown part of me, a prima dona busy polishing her nails and sipping her soy latte, came rushing out into the light with "What!" She jumps up and throws open the door indignantly. "No running water! How can I brush my teeth, wash a dish... you don't expect me to camp out the whole time do you? And an outhouse?! Get real!" she screamed. Visions of dirty dishes piled helter skelter in a pan, underwear drapped from every chair, tripping through the cold night to the privy where a coiled rattlesnack awaits...stream like a B-rated comedy through her mind. Priscilla became seriously decomposed!

Here is Priscilla's vision of the composted toilet:



Priscilla is the product of the consumer society, a renegade figure with arms crossed and feet planted with a firm "Not me, no way Jose!"

Was I a complete FAKE? Where did this gut wrenching, fear-filled reaction come from? It was like my Priscilla persona had been insulted or even punished.

Later, as I tried to understand myself and examine my own lifestyle (which I always considered conservative in terms of water and power use) I realized how stuck I am on conveniences that I just take for granted and that Priscilla believes are absolutely necessary to carry-on a "decent life". About 75% of the human race does not live decently according to Priscilla.

Then it occurred to me how funny this was...the universe once again was serving up the only kind of experience I seem to have when the lesson I need to learn is hard: throw me into it! I get to know some of my book's characters by discovering them in me! I get to know them inside out by feeling all the fear, anger, revulsion and irritability many Americans may feel if and when the water stops running, the lights go off and we have to unplug ourselves from an unsustainable lifestyle.

So...Composted, my new blog. Here I will record my experience chopping wood, hauling water and pooping in the moonlight like my ancestors. I have no idea what this will be like. I would have never chosen to have this experience. I could just let Priscilla reign supreme, but I will not. Instead, I am going to take her by the hand and we are going down the privy path to see what's there. This is not Priscilla's vision of how we will be living in the distant future. She is hoping climate change will be a short seasonal variation and technology will learn to make it all go away...honey, pass me the massage cream.

Priscilla is very unhappy right now but resigned to the situation. She is trying to pack and has come up with a series of the most creative excuses about how we can save face: My 89 year old father just had a stroke... it's just not the right setting for me right now...I need to stay in Tucson to do more research, the timing is not right. Very sorry, I have to postpone the experience...forever!

The next segment of the adventure will be on site staring down at the real composted toilet, an experience Priscilla compares to Armageddon. Join us on August 25 for all the gory details.