When I was six, my great-grandfather took me to his carpenter's workshop, put me to the counter, put a grater in my hands and began to show me how to plane. At the same time, my friends bathed in the river and I did not really want to learn. But my great-grandfather, who was a strict man and somewhat harsh, still managed to pour the foundations of carpentry into my head and I am very grateful to him for that. My great-grandfather was not a professional carpenter, he was a teacher, and no doubt a talented man. As a true 19th-century rural intelligent person, he was not only highly educated, he spoke three languages, played the violin, but also mastered many crafts.