Aha, I am a sixty odd year old and I remember the freezing, stinky, damp days well.
We lived in an old farmhouse with no heating except a fire, that we transported from one room to another. There was a broken or missing pot on the kitchen chimney, and when the wind blew (which was every day, where we lived) the coal smoke blew out into the kitchen making us cough and gag.
We had no heating in the bedroom and went to sleep as many clothes as we could. There were no duvets, so we just piled clothes on top of the blankets. There was frost on the inside of the windows in the winter.
The water was heated by the back boiler, so until the fire had been lit for a while, there was no hot water. We went to school having splashed ourselves awake with water that took our breath away.
The fire heated the room to a radius of half a person, so we all huddled around it. Because I was the youngest I lay on the mat and inhaled the stink of my father's steaming socks.
We also had an old washing machine that danced around the kitchen and spurted water all over the kitchen floor. So I hated rainy washing days because soaking wet clothes dripped from some sort of laundry contraption and filled up the dirty puddles from the leaking washing machine. Outside, there was mud to rival the Somme.
Ah yes, those were the days!