Today I just want to share an old story about what happened to me many years ago, when I was 12. At that time I was spending summers at my grandma’s house. She was keeping rabbits. People had them to eat. I don’t think I could ever eat a rabbit I was watching growing up. But my job was to cut the grass and bring to feed rabbits, and I was using a sickle to do it. Yes, just like the one on the Soviet Hammer-and-Sicke emblem. 

 

So one Sunday I went to cut grass, and I cut my finger all the way to the bone. No, it did not really hurt. In fact, I was curious to look at my own bone...

 

Listen to the rest of the story...