Pig feed

So I've recently been exposed to ravelry and the world of reading new blogs of other knitter/oddballs.   It is rather addictive and I am especially drawn to the other chicken-people-knitters, perhaps because many share common rural interests.  

Overall, I read a theme that repeats, a sentiment I have felt myself...  the idea that I was born in the wrong century.   Perhaps we weren't and we were simply reborn, but winter makes me question the romanticized notion of life in the past.   I wonder if we -as modern women- have a f...en clue how hard it must have been to live without electricity, running water, our appliances, septic systems, cars, and all that has come out of the last one hundred years.   I have had just a glimpse of this life over the past three years, intermittently living without one or two conveniences at a time, and was reminded of it again when I saw a 4' something", 70 year old woman carry more weight on her shoulders -and I'm talking a lot of weight- than I could possibly carry.   

Even making pig feed requires planting, growing, harvesting, cooking, & chopping these potatoes...

When you wake up with 0 degree F weather and no heat.... how ready are you?   When your water is frozen and you don't know when it will thaw?  When just having water is a worry.   The difference of course, is that I know I can drive for water if needed and know the gas station 15 miles from home will have it.   I can go into a restaurant and borrow a toilet when the septic system is frozen.    Romanticize history?   Ladies, we just plain worked our butts off for little more than survival.   This is no Tasha Tudor lifestyle and I wonder if that really could have existed, or would a little old lady living on her own just have melted into nothing without the help of others?   I think what we really crave is simplicity...