Oh, the memories!
Speaking of Italy, my family comes from central Italy, in the country, 100kms from Rome, I was born in Rome, but spent a lot of time there.
My mom's sister still lives in a tiny village of about 15 hundreds inhabitants.
My grandmother was a farmer, my grandfather a tailor, they used to have all kinds of animals in their farm, from cows (they had two, they made milk that they sold to the local milk consortium), they had pigs, sheeps, chickens, rabbits, pigeons, everything one imagine in a small family farm.
I used to drink fresh milk and eat tomatoes straight from the plant, we slaughtered our pigs every year near the epiphany and we hate "polenta e spuntature" on the "scifa" (a large plate of wood) together (like these fine gentlemen in the picture http://i.imgur.com/zcYK800.png), we made, and still make, our own wine and olive oil.
It wasn't much different from what Americans imagine in their tv shows and movies Soviet villages with babushka in the 50s, but it was the 70s in Italy and we already had cars and trucks (the milk tank truck was very much like this one already https://www.autocarri.it/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/20190506...) and, of course, there was the occasional donkey cart, but it was already more folklore than the norm.