Quote:BIAD...
In 20th century Britain, we called it a 'perambulator' or pram and I believe the US, it was known as a stroller.
But back in the monochrome years of my youth, a pram was far more than just a wheeled-chair to transport small children
in, it was a huge thing that could reach the chest of an adult when its hood was unfurled. To enhance one's standing in a
community, such a baby carriage had to be a 'Silver Cross'... the vertex of post natal portage.
A Silver Cross Perambulator.
I remember those things. Some folks called them "strollers" or "baby carriages", but we simply called them "baby buggies". I can remember mine, specifically. A contraption constructed of what appeared to be blue canvas and chromed steel tubing, with a solid plate of canvas to cover the bed up to the hood, and a clear plastic sheet sealing the hood but allowing for vision both in and out, for inclement weather. From the inside, the thing was claustrophobic, sort of like a canvas-covered torture chamber when it was all sealed up.
Everywhere I lived as a child had a "coal house", or a reasonable facsimile of one. In Ohio, it was a large room in the basement next to the furnace that would hold a ton or two of coal at a time, and was filled via a chute in the house foundation. When we moved to Virginia, it was a log structure next to the dirt road, a short walk from the house. Here where I live now, it's a log-framed slab-built structure just outside the yard gate. Snarl parked next to it when he made his trip here to visit. It no longer contains coal - the coal furnace was decades ago, and has since been replace with an oil heater, and later gas heat. The coal house currently contains some few garden and yard work implements, but has largely been abandoned to the snakes and bumble-bees.
And outdoor toilets! We called that the "out-house", and I recall them well. Ours was fancy - it had a regular toilet seat bolted to the hole in the wooden seat. That was both a blessing and a curse. You didn't have to worry about splinters, but you might freeze to it in the winter time if you neglected to brush the snow off of it... and in the summer time, I never failed to procure a stick or a weed stem to run around the perimeter of it before I sat down, to make sure the spider webs were cleared from it. I've never fancied having a spider crawl up my ass!
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Is Myers Flat still swampy, or has it been drained/filled in the interim?
I try to never piss off the Wee Folk. They have inventive ways of getting even, plus 10%. Some times, on dark nights here, I can see 'em dancing as tiny glowing lights in the woods and over the fields... and I don't go out to disturb them. I've no desire to be a permanent guest in Tir na Nog... or worse...
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