For those of you who would like to play with it ----- I mean building a composting toilet.  Thanks to whoever posted this link elsewhere on the forum -- I noticed it was here with Becky Bee's book.

http://www.weblife.org/humanure/



Print copy available here.

http://www.jenkinspublishing.com/

Humanure Handbook 2nd ed. (which I believe is the one pictured above--version now on sale seems to have a different cover, so it may be a third edition) also available to read on Jenkins' web site.

http://www.weblife.org/humanure/default.html

Thanks for giving us the latest poop on that, Amanda.

Guess she knows her...stuff  

actually it sends you to the same site that Glenn posted.

You know, Daddymem,    ---talking about all this crap makes me think about the good ol' days in Oregon, at my grandma and grandpaws place up on the hill.  There was a 3 hole outhouse there - always had an old Sears catalogue laying on the seat beside the left hole.  I always wondered, what would it be like if 3 people actually showed up.  I don't know if we should go there or not. :-/  Seems you would have to make small talk while looking around the room ------

I mean -----what would you say --"Oh, Hi Joe, hows it goin?"

"Well, Mabel, I think everything is going to come out just fine."

"Yeah, Red just popped in here for a minute -- said he had to run."

"Yup, yup , yup--- that Red, he's just like a kid with the diarrhea --always running behind." :-/

Three holes?!?! Well la-de-da, we only had a one hole in my grandparents cabin in NH.

I won't say my grandpaw was loaded but you can tell a bit how flush with money someone is if you count the number of sanitary facilities there are. :-/

At least shall we say that they weren't in the dumper.  We'll -at least they had enough to buy a good bogroll.

While thinking about that sunroom (http://www.jshow.com/y2k/listings/35.html) and reading this post, I almost want to break into that old song "Oh dear, what could the matter be? Seven old ladies, locked in the lav-a-try"...but I won't...poop, I just did.

Yeah, Daddymem, I actually remember sitting in my outhouse --- before I had walls on it, looking out over the valley below and wailing out the lyrics of The Ode To The Little Brown Shack Out Back whilst wishing I had the

Little House Plans,

so I could adapt walls to the privy in order to keep my pale white out of the view of curious passersby.