In the village where I go, a couple of farmers are forging on two thousand hectares each. He was already in a two-storey house.
And in general, when you constantly hear from the villagers that the village is being killed, that it is necessary to roll out of here, that there is no job, but at the same time the first car you meet on the street is the tenth Mitsubishi Lancer, you think that something is wrong here.
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There are two types of inhabitants in the village: those who work and those who do not work, but at the same time carry words about the death of the village (most often by drunkenness).
I have a house in the village. The neighbors live constantly. Those who work - their homes can be seen from a distance on the new repair. Those who do not work - some houses look like after a bombing. And yes, they didn’t have cars – they were drunk.