Many, many years ago, we lived in Alaska. Alaska is a beautiful, wild place. Our tiny cabin had no running water. We hauled water in large containers and it was all good. We showered at the University. We had an outhouse.
As the winter progressed and set in, the trip to the outhouse became arduous. We had a 2-year-old. Think about it. So, we eventually purchased a porta-potty and placed it in the only available space indoors – right off the kitchen – surrounded on 2 sides with windows. A session on the throne was accompanied with the fear of visitors traipsing down the driveway and up the porch.
Years have passed. Jobs have changed, degrees have been earned, another child born, moves made. Retirement. A new home. Another forest. Another public toilet. Yup.
In the new home, we have NO interior doors. Not by choice. Issues with the first doors. New doors and new paint and they now sit in the garage. From the master bathroom, there is a direct line of sight to the window on the front door. Deja vu? I hold court and expect to see any of a variety of workmen wandering up to the door. Surprise!