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Don't Expect a Toilet Like This One in the North Woods!

If you missed my first post on this subject, click here to get brought up to speed.

Then, there was the bathing situation. You guessed it. No running water. Bathe in the ice cold lake. Our cabins are a 10 minute car ride from Lake Freakin Superior. Can you say, "Arctic"? Try shaving your legs in that water. So, the first time I was heading into the little lake outside our cabins to take a dip / shower / shave, my host/brother-in-law says to me, "Oh, don't forget to hustle in to avoid the itch. Once you get in over your shoulders, you don't have to worry about it."

"The what?" certain I had misunderstood him.

"The itch. Didn't Susan tell you?"

"Uh, no."

"Yeah, sure she did. You know, get in super fast, so you don't get the itch."

OK, so now my skin was starting to crawl. "Um, no, I'm pretty sure I would have remembered a conversation about something called the ITCH. Why don't you fill me in?"

"Well, it's just that the geese poop in the lake and all, and the first twenty feet of water or so can make your skin itch all over. It's not dangerous or anything. No big deal, really. Just hurry in."

"It makes your skin itch...all over? How long does this last?"

"Not too long - maybe six or seven hours. But really, just forget about it. I shouldn't have even mentioned it. Sometimes it's not even a problem."

(Visibly freaking out now...) "Oh, that's OK, I think I'll just wait a while." We're going to be there six days. Thoughts start racing through my head. Which is worse? Not bathing or getting "the itch"? I'm truly not certain, but I sure as heck don't want this "itch"! Would you?

I walk back up to the cabin in a daze, reporting to my husband that I will be smelling like B.O. for the remainder of the trip, and there's nothing he can do about it. Furthermore, he will learn what it's like to live with Mountain Mary because shaving is now out of the question. Like you can do that while in the water over your shoulders. And never mind anyway, 'cuz' you couldn't pay me to go in the ITCH water! Eeeeooow.

Keep in mind this is all on our first afternoon in the Woods. As dusk falls, I realize that the one "light" in the big cabin is only enough to light a small area in the kitchen. I likened going upstairs to the four bedrooms to going through a haunted house at Halloween. Dark, unknown, no idea what might be coming next. Stuff everywhere you turn.
 
While brushing our teeth, I calmly ask my sister how she makes it through the night without using the bathroom. The ensuing convo goes something like this...

"Oh, don't worry, dearie. If you're afraid to go, you can go inside."

What's this? They've been holding out on me? There's a bathroom inside after all?

"Just use the luggable Lou."

"Beg pardon?"

She giggles, sensing (or shall I say relishing?) my discomfort. She's been coming here for years now, but there was a time when she, too, was a newbie...

"Luggable Lou. The pot."

"The whaaa..."

She points to a bucket with -- you guessed it -- a toilet seat setting on top of it. Luggable Lou. OMG.

More next time...