Visiting the Miller Grandparents
There was something magical about visiting my grandparents, the Millers, way out in the woods on that old dirt road. No running water, no phones—just simplicity and adventure. As a kid, the journey up Highway 43 (before Lake Tuscaloosa was even built) felt like stepping into another world.

The Little Things Made It Special
If you wanted water, you drew it from the well. If you wanted warmth, you stood in front of the fireplace until your backside was toasty, then ran right back outside to play on the woodpile. And if you spent the night in winter? Forget about tossing and turning—those thick, homemade quilts held you in place like a straitjacket. You had to fight to roll over!

The Great Outhouse Mystery
Now, let’s talk about something nobody really discusses but everyone who visited remembers—the outhouse. Paw Paw had built it behind the barn, and when nature called, you answered… by making the trek to the two-seater.

Yes, you read that right—a two-seater outhouse. Why? I have no idea. I sure wasn’t about to share my private outhouse time with anyone. Wait your turn, folks!

But the real mystery wasn’t the fact that it had two seats—it was the shape of those seats. Instead of normal, sensible circles, Paw Paw had cut diamond-shaped holes into the wood.

Who in the world has a diamond-shaped butt?

I’ve seen big ones, small ones, and everything in between, but never—never—have I encountered a diamond-shaped rear end. Was there some hidden reason for this? Did Paw Paw’s saw refuse to cut a simple circle? Did he get some kind of satisfaction knowing people would walk away with diamond imprints on their backsides? The world may never know.

In the End, It Didn’t Matter
When nature called, you grabbed the Sears catalog (because let’s be honest, that’s what it was there for) and made your way to the diamond. No questions asked.

Those visits to the Miller grandparents were filled with simple joys, odd mysteries, and memories that still make me laugh. And while some things—like the purpose of a two-seater diamond-cut outhouse—may remain unsolved, one thing’s for sure: those were the good old days.