By the end of August, the east eave was enclosed and a home was discernible. School had started, so my help was limited to weekends. Driving in each day made trucking water easier. By maintaining two 5-gallon containers in the car, we limited our water needs to ten gallons. By burying half of a fifty-five gallon drum, Joe installed a sink for a kitchen nook. Then he ingeniously rigged a shower from half of a culvert. By pumping a pressure insecticide sprayer, we could shower with less than a gallon each. The outhouse was a mere 80 feet from the east, and only opening of the house.
With the lanterns and the wood burning stove, we were a little concerned about ventilation. Initially, Joe had buried almost fifteen feet of culvert at the southwest base of the west wall. This work well, providing fresh air flow and cooling the warm August nights. But one Friday night the air wafted in smelling foul and musky. By the morning the distinct odor of skunk was obvious. Any doubts were dispelled when the excited barks of Sally echoed down the vent tunnel followed by a howl and the distinct overpowering wash of acrid musk.
"I smell skunk!" called Jason.
"I smell Skunk!" called Braedon.
"I just said that," Jason said as he scrambled down from their loft.
"Yuk, it's stronger down here!"
"My eyes sting!"
"God, who let a skunk in," called Joe. It was only 6 in the morning and everyone was up, coughing, rubbing eyes, and rushing outside.
"I've never smelled anything so strong or so rancid!" I cried as tears flowed.
"Me, too!" wailed Jason and Braedon together. But we were wrong, for just then Sally came whimpering up.
"Down Sally!" Joe scolded as Sally rubbed at his legs. She dropped to her belly and whined.
"She stinks" said Braedon.
"She caught a skunk," observed Jason.
"Yes, yes, yes," agreed Joe, "and you two are going to have to take her to the ditch to wash her."
"No, way! It's cold!" said Jason.
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