A memory of mowing our rye field at the southern end of the Papyvesis Valley, at the end of summer
Not for sale
Let me share with you my very old, personal memories of how I once spent the days of my early youth and what adventures I experienced during that time. And again, I will talk about the further events of the same summer of 2002 in the life of my family and home, which are the most memorable for me personally from that particular period. Maybe you still remember from my previous stories that particular part of the forest meadow located in my village, on the southern edge of the Papyvesis Valley, the same place where my mother and I were sitting in a tractor trailer in the pouring rain during the June hay transport home? So, in that exact place, just a little to the right, there was a not very wide, but rather long field of rye sown there by our family, which, by August, had already completely turned yellow. This means that at that time the ears of this grain were already fully ripe and completely suitable for threshing. And one beautiful, calm and sunny August afternoon, that is exactly
