Did I mention something a few paragraphs back about living through my childhood years with very little upheaval? I guess that would be true if your definition of upheaval does not extend to having your living conditions regress by a century. There was an unspoiled, rustic beauty to our new home in Virginia. I might have appreciated it more if I were a landscape painter or a wilderness photographer, but I was just a simple farm boy who actually had to live in this idyllic picture.
The modest, Cape Cod–style farmhouse we were living in had no electricity, no sink or plumbing, no refrigerator, and no interior water supply. Our only source of light after the sun went down was either candles or kerosene lamps, and the bathroom was an outhouse out back that we all used.
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