Than the earth of Priazovye is generous?Times still those were. When the people forgot about money at all. For that simple reason that it did not have them. And as appeared, so for some reason not in that quantity that and paid off on all debts. So if money suddenly appeared on the horizon, it is obligatory it was necessary to scratch turnip.
Where them? For a salary? Or to pay off with power engineering specialists? And that they are such … A knife switch turned also all. Any to you electricity. Without which and there is no work, respectively., the accounts department and that, on the computer according to some program considers everything. On production - especially. Times of water and steam sank into oblivion long ago.
So even if and not strongly there was a wish, it was necessary to pay for the same electric power somehow. Here also different power bills went in the market. Bought what of them for half a million, and gave to power engineering specialists twice more expensively. Interesting schemes turned out. My predecessor also decided to turn one of them.
Solved and made. Yes only when it did, general RAO UES one, known to all Russia, red became. And at once, according to the introduction, the order published. Any schemes, pier. Only money. Also there was an enterprise in private with that bill that face value on two million it is written out. It also devolved to me.
And my salary is not paid. Debt on it - too with six zero. The people already half a year as did not undersign for sheets. And the bill not to give it. Money is necessary. Here also I had to go to Volgodonsk. To show this bill to the one who wrote out it. Managements of the Rostov NPP under construction. Pay supposedly children, this piece of paper, For goodness sake.
I also went. Jumped in the evening in Moscow into their company “Quiet Don“, I wake up already somewhere for Chertkovo in the morning. We stop. Millerovo. Ran, sellers ran on a platform. What there at them? Still dozing eyes I look in a window...
Good gracious! Here a shame - that... And it is potato?! Yes such trifle only at us, in Karelia, is not thrown out. And here, in the south, this, the size is no more than quail egg, to offer?! Moreover and whole buckets? Naive. Who will buy such junk?
In Gukovo - the same history. And to Red Sulin I already finally woke up and came to the platform. I look, and in a bucket - that... Not potato! Walnut! Who could think that there are somewhere such places in which a walnut can sell not in grams or there a floor - one-liter jars... Buckets!
And not only them. At them there, with this nut - full waste-free production. Then already, on the way back, approached in Taganrog in the market the woman. At it on a counter the small kulyochka curtailed from the newspaper. Thought sunflower seeds. Opened eyes. Looked attentively... What sunflower seeds?! No. These partitions which in a shell from another separate one half of a nut. Shoot! That for nonsense! She still would trade in a shell...
Also explained to me popularly that if what you do not know, then and there is nothing to be indignant. These partitions - not just like that. From them - the real advantage to any organism. And that it not in words, and in practice you stop achieving - partitions in a bottle with gorilka. And they as the filter, peel drink of the remains of fusel oils. The moonshine smell - as did not happen. Of alcohol of course, smells, but alcohol, not raw vodka. And drink … gains noble cognac color.
Here to you, and potato … About quail egg.
But then, in Red Sulin, me was not before. Carriage radio already about Dubrovka and the North - OST notified. Terrorists, pier. And I have a bill … Though under construction, but nuclear power plant. Which, generally, belong to strategic objects. And their dense forest of the eye should protect from terrorists.
And if now this mode of thrift and protection and on full includes … Who in this management under construction will pass me that I showed the bill? Here who?.
Back, perhaps to turn? Late … To late drink “Borjomi“. Rostov - the father already in person ran up to the platform. And from it to that Volgodonsk … Is closer and closer, than to native Karelia. Especially, and bus station. Here it, within direct visibility. At the same station square. Only on other side. I also passed to it. Bought the ticket and went.
I go, and at most in the thought head … Different. But for some reason everything, as on selection, - gloomy. And weather behind a window - in unison to mood. The rain drizzles. Even does not drizzle. Sows. Small, tiresome, autumn. Also it is felt, for a long time loaded. On all road.
And what strange? End of October outside. At us, in Karelia, almost also. Here only … Here still yellow or crimson - does not even smell. And that something yes already flew … And in mention is not present. All green. And a rare bush that rather narrow strip at the left - to the right of the road. And equal, as a table-top, the steppe leaving somewhere afar in a gray damp haze. However, greens not spring, juicy, bright, and fairly faded and faded, absorbed in itself rain moisture to such an extent that if to stop, take it in hand and to unscrew … Will surely begin to flow!
But the bus trip, you will not stop it. You will not check the conclusions in practice. So it is necessary only to go. And to glance at monotonous it is dim - a green, rain landscape behind a window. Which is occasionally diversified by the small sheep flocks which are masking, almost merging with a surrounding background somewhere there, almost at the horizon. And it is possible to guess them, as a rule, only on the high column of the shepherd which is wrapped up in army it is damp - green a raincoat - tent with a hood.
Or here. Too allocated on monotonous it is gray - green, exactly - a flat background, evident. What it in the roadside bush rushing by? What for man-made multi-colored salatno - is yellow - red mountains? One, the second … Oho, how many them!
Only after the information sign “Semikarakorsk“ when the bus begins to slow down smoothly, it is possible to make out that it … Mountains of sweet paprika! Near each of which - standard industrial scales. Because all these man-made tops - not just like that. For sale. But if who has a desire to buy, then will sell it not a pepper. Not two. And even not to steam of kilograms. And big mesh bag. And most often - not one. Because the buyer, as a rule, does not approach these scales. Approaches. On the car with the trailer.
Here so at them, in Rostov. If a walnut - so buckets. Paprika - trailers. Well, and bills - million.
And in Management I was not passed then. At the entrance check point, besides standard protection of the enterprise, still the motor-shooting office which was already in time to dig out small okopchik of an incomplete profile and to equip a firing position under a manual machine gun of the Kalashnikov was on duty.
But I all - showed the bill. Also remembered this fertile southern earth. In own way beautiful, warm and very generous.