The very real Aussie terror of a redback on the dunny seat at night

The other day I was casually glancing through a magazine and an advertisement caught my eye. The catchline suggested that in future we may no longer have need for toilet paper.

Apparently there is a range of bidets available that not only wash one’s bottom but also do the job of drying. Hence eliminating the use of toilet paper. I am not familiar with the use of bidets in fact I can honestly say that I have only come across a couple of them in my entire life. I decided to do a little research and discovered that the word bidet, being French for pony came about from the old French word bider, which meant ride.

I guess the etymology is that one sits on a bidet as one would sit on a horse. The mind boggles. Wikihow.com has a very informative video and narration on the dos and don’ts of bidet and toilet use. The internet is a wonderful thing.

Anyway all that research got me thinking about dunnies; the old outhouse in particular. The dunny we had on the farm in the early 1950s was situated well away from the house. So far in fact that it seldom got used after dark. We had bed pans and potties for night time use. As a very young child the thought of going across the paddock to the dunny in darkness was a hit scary, especially when I had heard Dad tell Mum that he had killed a red back spider whilst emptying the dunny drum.

The drum had to be emptied every now and then. For obvious reasons this was best done before the drum was overfull. Our dunny had a hinged flap at the back that allowed access to the drum under the seat. Dad would dig a hole in the ground near the dunny then with, much swearing and grunting, slide the drum out and pour its contents into the hole and put the dirt back on top.

It is hard to imagine using newspaper to wipe one’s bottom but that is what we did. Mum would cut pieces of paper into squares and thread them together with a length of string, which hung on a nail in the dunny. Old phone books were often recycled in this way. Our dunny was typical of farm house dunnies in the ’50s and it was up to the owner to add a personal touch. From memory, ours was painted duck egg blue. It had a small mat on the floor and a calendar hanging behind the door. The door latch was a leather strap with a hole in it which could be fastened on a nail inside the dunny when in use and then on a nail on the outside when the job had been done.

Our dunny served us well prior to the installation of a septic system. The dunny became part of the house and even though the shiny new toilet was situated in the wash house on the end of the verandah, it was a welcome improvement to life. No longer did we have to ross the paddock to answer a call of nature and potties became a thing of the past. Dad no longer had the unenviable job of emptying the drum and I stopped having nightmares about red back spiders in the dunny.

Maybe one day I will find out what it is like to sit astride a bidet.

Do you remember having to use and outhouse when you were younger?

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