I have enjoyed reading the stories and experiences shared in this thread. Here is another story of growing up in a home free from modern conveniences. Born in Western Colorado in the mid-1940s to a family that was not well off financially, I was 11 years of age before we lived in a house that had indoor plumbing or a source of heat other than a wood or coal fired stove. Our water came from a concrete cistern on the property that was periodically refilled by a water delivery truck. The water was pumped from the cistern by hand and carried into the house in buckets. Our bathing was once per week in a galvanized tub filled with water warmed on the stove that, for me as the eldest child, had previously been used by my father, followed by my mother, then me, and in succession the children younger than me. Down a cold, dark pathway from the house was an outhouse, which we shared with unpleasant odors, spiders, and other imaginary dangers. Within the privy, there was usually to be found discarded newspaper or the pages remaining from an old mail order catalog which were repurposed as an improvement on the legendary corn cob. Used for this purpose, we didn’t consider the distribution of catalogs containing slick four color illustrations to be an advancement. None of us preferred to brave the elements and challenge its dangers by answering nature’s call in the dark of night so, beneath each bed was placed a “thunder mug” to accommodate these poorly timed necessities. Somehow we survived, what would be thought to be deprivations today, and grew up to be healthy, educated, productive people. To this day, my wife, who was raised as the pampered daughter of a well-to-do doctor, listens to my descriptions of the conditions that existed for my social class with a goodly amount of skepticism.