We ordered a new composting toilet together, another chapter in the wild and wonderful history of Bedlam Farm and of this blog.

I can’t wait to write about it.

This is something new and different for me to experience and write about. A few months ago, during some Covid-like episode, I fell down the stairs rushing to the bathroom.

It was a landmark hall. I was severely bruised, but nothing was broken. Still, it was a come-to-Jesus moment. I was fortunate. I’ll soon be 76, and falling downstairs is not a good idea.

Neither is ignoring climate change. We hope to do something both smart and useful. Many people prefer to sit on their hands and cluck; we would like to do anything. I am not a fan of wishful thinking.

I don’t need to be persuaded that climate change is real; all I need to do is look out the window every day and see the ground either dry or flooded, the heat and air become unbearable,  and storms that were unthinkable a few years ago along with fires that can’t be put out tell their truth.

These things are happening more frequently than ever and are more damaging and dangerous.

Many people still close their eyes to this; I can’t do a thing about that, but I can keep mine open and do everything possible to try and save the life we love so much and those in danger in so many places.

Horrified reading about my fall, a good friend got on me to build a new bathroom upstairs in our small farmhouse – we only have one, and it’s upstairs.

Putting a standard toilet connected to water without tearing about a ceiling and some of the foundation was far too expensive.

We don’t wish to do that and can’t afford it.

We believe the compostable toilet is good for Mother Earth (it uses no water) and will be good for us; it will be handy. I don’t ever want to take that fall in the dark again.

Neither does Maria.

We are doing many other things, but I can write them later. This toilet is pretty interesting. I believe it’s the future in several different ways.

After some cajoling and research, we bought this remarkable toilet,  shown above, now used in many rural and city homes, drought-stricken towns,  trains, RTVs, and campgrounds. Building a bathroom is plenty expensive in any house.

The toilet is odorless and needs no plumbing.

There is a compact bag that collects the urine and feces,s and they disintegrate in a tight pile.  It doesn’t need to be cleaned daily but every week or so.

The toilet promises to be odorless.

We will study it, assemble it, figure out how to use it, and put it upstairs in a spare bedroom as we consider a way to contain and enclose it for privacy and dignity.

We know a lot of people who have one and who love it. It saves a lot of water and broken limbs,  ankles, and hips.

We’ve been researching this carefully for months and talking to people about how to use one best. We are ready to take this new jump and try this idea.

We are indeed getting older, but this does not mean we must be stupid. Climate change, for years ignored by the great and greedy minds running our country, was something we read about; it is now something we live.

Someone messaged me today saying he was sure they could come up with something to save us and no need to get upset.

I hope he’s right. But I have no reason to think he knows more about it than I do, just another online know-it-all gasbag offering unwanted advice.

There is just no end to these people.

In the meantime, from solar to toilet to generator to long-delayed roof work, we are preparing to deal with reality and get even more serious about conservation and needless waste.

Sure, I don’t want to fall downstairs.

But as importantly, I want to help save the world, and since so many of our citizens and leaders are doing their ostrich-heads-in-the-sand routines, we need to help ourselves, one at a time.

The toilet seems simple. I’ll let you know.

When I want to see the future, I have only to read about Florida and the horrendous environmental trouble they are facing, from storms to pythons to power-made political leaders to sharks to oceans of algae choking their shores.

I wonder if hateful politicians and awful legislation are signs that Climate Change is closing in and melting hearts.

If we fail, at least we tried; we didn’t sit around hiding from our own lives.

We are both eager to see what happens, and I am happy to share the experience on the blog. I’ll share what we have learned within the boundaries of good taste and sensitivity.

As I often tell Maria (as my mother told me), we did grow up in New England. Here goes another romp into life as we are living it.

Step one is putting this toilet together. Stand by.