The Hardworking Life of a Highland Woman From Farm Chores to Homemade Vinihred

Here, fry, this one over there, here. I'll even go around the compote. Only fine. Alright, I'm already full of chicken. Delicious! Na-na-na! Na-na-na-na-na! Come here, I'm giving you food. Na-na-na-na-na! Na-na-na-na-na! Hens, hens, I've cracked the rice dryer. Na-na-na-na! Go, don't drink there. She says that I want her. Oh, I need to let go. The forest is fine, the body of the forest is fine. Wait, wait! Help me. Come on, show me your benches, show them. You wanna fight, you rotten lava pears. What kind of job is this? Good, yes, good, yes. Your hands are messed up, huh? Good day. Oh, what heavy clay. Such good clay, yet no fireplace. What nice sand. What a hard job, well. Little chickens, go and sleep well. Yay! You're joking. What a woman. That's it, that's it. Oh-oh-oh. Well then, well then. And the feet. Come on, show me your legs. Show me. Chickens, mama, chickens. Go like this. All done. Such a gut. Marvel, intestine. Good day. An infection. These reeds need to be soaked. Uh-huh. This little clay is good. All right, here's good. All done. Thank God. City. Andrey, you can't go there. An infection. Hey! Go! That's how summer is here. Such a lovely leaf. That's the kind of intestine. Everyone is afraid, afraid. But they tried something. One person entered. Everyone here is good. Andrey, do you see where we're going? See? We will. They were here not long ago yesterday. Two, right? There were dark sediments. Here in Siberia. They live there. All clear. Both cebula and fasulya. Such potatoes, such beets. Zaba. Salts, grass. Beans, potatoes. Seeds. All done. The Lord has blessed. Everything good was there. People were leaving. Well, yes.