I would not have made a good homesteader. Back in the day when my great-grandparents were proving up on their claims, they had to do nearly everything themselves. Laundry was done in a big metal tub with a washboard, and usually with homemade soap. If they wanted to eat, they had to grow it, or kill it, or at least buy the basic ingredients from a general store and make it from scratch. Milk was the closest thing they had to convenience food, once you got it out of the cow. My great-grandmother turned hunting for and cooking mushrooms into an art form, out of necessity. If you wanted to go somewhere, you could walk or ride a horse, or hitch the horse to a wagon.
Tonight my husband and I were discussing what we might like to have for dinner. It's been a cold, windy day. I've had my little space heater going next to my desk while I slave away at the keyboard. We decided some nice, warm soup would really hit the spot tonight. The next question was, did we have any varieties of canned soup in the cupboard that sounded really appealing? I'll check, but I may jump in my car and drive a few blocks to the grocery store to buy something. Maybe some kind of stew, or a nice corn chowder.
I lead such a pampered existence.