When I was a youngster, I always enjoyed going to visit my Granny Cato.

She and my stepgrandpa, Bill Cato, did not have running water or a bathroom in their house until I was nearly in middle school, but I never t h o u g ht anything of it. In my opinion, if you were raised around it, it wasn’t unusual, it was just part of life. Their house was never dirty or unclean, it was just the opposite.

Granny would cook fresh eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy for breakfast and after putting everything into plates or bowls, she would keep the skillet hot until it was time to wash the dishes. We would draw the water from the well and bring it inside in buckets to distribute as needed. Some of the water was used in a wash pan, where we all washed our hands and faces before eating. Some of it would go into the kitchen sink, where Granny would then put the hot skillet into the dish water to heat it up.

Their outhouse was cleaner than most people’s bathrooms, and later on when they had a bathtub and bathroom sink installed inside their home, she would still heat water for a bath. If not, you used the wash pan, especially if it was cold outside.

I guess you could say in those days they did a lot of improvising. It might have taken longer but they did it for a reason and maybe because they had no choice. Hence, all of these memories came to mind after my water froze last week.

Last Friday, I heard the sound of water spewing in my laundry room and knew immediately what it was. I called the landlord as I turned off the water to my washing machine, and he turned my water off at the meter until it could be fixed. I knew it would be Monday but was thankful I had extra water on standby just in case.

I had enough water to make coffee and cook with, but no shower. By Sunday, I couldn’t stand it anymore and wanted my hair washed. It was then that I thought of my Granny and what she would’ve done.

I took half of a jug of water and boiled it on the stove. I then returned it to the original jug and put the plug in the bathroom sink so I could wash my hair. It wasn’t enough water for a complete wash but it was enough to use shampoo and rinse. I then used the water in the sink to take a “sink bath” with. It wasn’t great but it was better than having oily hair and stinky body odor, so I felt lighter and like a new person.

I then thought about all the improvising my ancestors might have had to do before me. I felt like if they could do it, so could I. Maybe I should start hanging my laundry out when it warms up. Maybe I could live without my cell phone for four days and live in a cabin in the woods with no water or electric. Maybe I could start walking more instead of driving.

But when my water was fixed and I began enjoying it again, I thought, maybe not… It’s 2025 people; here’s to progress! But if things don’t get better soon, we may all have to go back to improvising.