@Sedan so many tops on each plant, how do you you make them all?
In all my genes are to blame!))))
I'll tell you a true story about my father's childhood. I assure you, Alfred Hitchcock, looks like a child, in comparison with this.
My father. (Low bow to him.)
My father was born in 1939. In the village (according to the Soviet-collective farm), where people ate at 33.He does not remember his father. The father died in the first battle at 41, when they were thrown into battle unprepared in general and from weapons one rifle for three and ammunition cartridges ... against the tanks and burning everything on their way, diving aircraft Junkers. The commander before the attack said that weapons must be obtained in battle, taken away from the enemy with bare hands, then only you will become a real soldier of the Red Army. And he had nothing more to say, there was no weapons !!!!
In 43 he lived 30 kilometers from Kursk !!!!!!! Who knows the history, he will understand. In the summer of 43 years, under the Kursk, a battle took place that percolated the course of the Second World War. Tank battle, which the world has NEVER seen !!! It took part (I do not remember exactly), about 5000 tanks! The Kharkov T-34 tank defeated the German Tiger "T-4". In this principled battle, neither the Germans nor we would surrender to death !!! It came to the point that the Tiger and T-34, rode on each other, and butted like sheep!
It so happened that the fighting took place next to the village of his father. Once attacked by Russian assault fighter jets (better in its class in the 2nd World War)
The Germans called him "Black Death!
My grandmother and father hid in the cellar. After the attack, they got out. There's nothing around, there's one burned-out land. There was a village, and there was no village. Just the German Panzer Division of the SS was based in this village.
In one such attack (the father does not remember whether ours were Germans), the bomb hit the cellar, the roof collapsed, his father nearly lost his leg (he was 4 years old), his mother, remained disabled, injured her spine, walked, but The hump on the back was great!
Finally, we kicked out those educated, cultured, clever ... nonhumans !!!
1945, the grandmother and father move to relatives under Kharkov, in the same collective farm. On the collective farm there are no muzhchins at all. If there is, then without hands and feet, you need to look after them more! Women do men's work! My father worked as a shepherd in a collective farm at 6 years old, at 12 at the elevator with a loader !!! If you steal at least a spike of wheat from the collective farm, the prison term is 15 years. There is nothing to do !!! Father told me: there's nothing else in the summer, you can make a soup of nettles. We went to the forest with friends, there was a lot of abandoned weapons.
There was a howitzer large-bore, next to her shot shells. We recruited water from the creek into these cartridges (boys 4-8 years old). They searched for burrows of ground squirrels. Pour water at one end, from another he jumped out. We fried it at the stake. And they ate, even they did not cut it. The father says that he remembers the stomach was sick at him very much!
The winter of 1947 has come. Why they say about the alleged "genocide" in 33, and no one talks about winter 47 !!!!!!! This winter my father still remembers with horror !!! He told me: son, God forbid you to find out what is hunger! A real hunger !!! It was fucked !!! How they survived this - he is still wondering !!! He was one son of his mother, so thank God no one ate !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In this wine is not Stalin - the Germans !!!!!!! The country was collapsed. I showed them what they would do with my city! There was nothing at all, and no one could help !!
With all this, he went to school for 10 km (7 miles), through the forest every day! Very fond of poetry (Sergei Yesenin), he wrote and dreamed of flying! We found a Russian plane in the woods: the father, as now remembers, there was a decaying pilot, on the arm of the tattoo "Sasha". He took some spare parts from the plane and tried to make something)))
His father turned 15 years old, he walked barefoot into the city (there were no shoes, only felt boots in winter). 12 miles, get a job at the plant to feed the mother. I settled down as a loader in the foundry. Designers in the office worked nearby. He, like a magnet, was always drawn there ... to engineers, he dreamed of it !! ..... fly ...... from 8 am-6 pm, working day. Then the evening school, then dancing with the girls (he was young), said at 2-3 o'clock in the morning he got home only, to 4-5 he helped the disabled mother in the household.
He did not really sleep at all .... I do not know how it's possible, but it's true !!!!! As a result, he became the leading engineer of the design bureau of a huge plant! He never in his life caused people evil intentionally, he knew exactly what pain and suffering !! He was always ready to help at a difficult moment. He brought me up like this !!!!!
Bro, I now tell you and everyone about everything separately ... do you remember "to be continued"?))))
Just hard at once so much text)))))