My childhood was in the north of Tyumen, where there was absolutely no agriculture. There are berries in the forest, but there are no gardens with potatoes and carrots, around the sand, especially nothing grows, so the northern children of those years did not even know what urticaria is, not to mention the rest (as there is now - I don't know, but the strawberries appeared everywhere, we didn't have them). After school, I went to study in Ural. Flowering apples, topolish puff - all this I saw here, I can say, for the first time.

And here I have lived in the Urals for more than 25 years, and my agricultural sleepiness never passes. I have been going to my husband’s parents for nine years and, fucking, I can’t distinguish one bush from the other.  The last time I was assigned to grind last year's leaves from under the rice, I was all upset, grinded carefully. The man approached and said, “You’re probably all out?” Oh, I say, I also noticed that this is a variety of another, those two bushes did not collapse at all. And he replies, "Of course, because those two bushes are a carrot, and this one is a carrot!"

But the funniest was when I was looking for garlic in the market. I needed a local, not a Chinese. I ran once - there is no one, I go back - my grandmother is sitting, she has a bunch of strawberries, peanut butter and garlic a few heads. I ask, “What is your garlic?” She says, “Girl, it’s gladiolus.” My husband cried in the voice. How do I know, maybe a new one?! to

In short, working at the country I am not especially persuaded, and after the caterpillar got stuck in the swimsuit in the bath (picked the drizzles), so in general try not to leave in nature without supervision. But here with the blades I figured out: now it is not triangular and square, but stitch and sovkova!