Maybe some other folks would like to share their stories of memories of living in a collective house. Here's one of mine to stir the pot:

PLACENTA HELPER


Way back in the 1970's when I lived at Rivendell Housing Co-op in Michigan with six other friends, we used to host itinerant folk musicians who performed at the 10-Pound Fiddle Coffeehouse. Well, one time I'll certainly never forget. There was Stan Rogers, his brother Garnet and bass player Dave Eddy. The concert was the evening before and, of course, the evening continued as a late night party in our living room, partially fueled by a bottle of absolute alcohol supplied by one of our resident bio-med students. Anyway, everyone was somewhat bleary eyed when they awoke late next afternoon. We pulled together a wonderful vegetarian chili and some meat chili especially prepared for our carnivorous guests. Most of our members were vegetarians, and Stan and the boys could not resist baiting the vegetarians with stories and songs. Steve, one of our shy med students, rose to the occasion by vividly describing the home birth that had taken place in our house a few years back, casually mentioning that since we didn't know what to do with the placenta in the middle of the winter, someone had wrapped it up in wax paper and stuffed it in the freezer. One of our newer members and cook for the day, Karrie, then chimed in on cue, "In the freezer downstairs? Oh, no!" Stan and the boys turned ashy pale…We did bury the placenta the next spring in the backyard before a real "accident" happened.

Cheers!