There were practically no factory-made children’s toys — they were made by ourselves: whistles, chases, bone knuckles and, of course, slingshots. Growing up, we explored the village alleys and surroundings. In the spring, paper boats were launched along running streams and puddles, one of which, quite extensive, was located behind the neighboring house in front of the former collective farm club. On warm summer days, especially after the rain, we enthusiastically drove the so-called carters (hoops or rings made of wire) through the streets of the village.
In autumn, having learned, we skated snowshoes, tying them to felt boots, on the nearest Soldier River, enthusiastically running from one side to the other, to the neighboring village of Subareva.
Our favorite place at all times of the year was the banks of the Taima, opposite the village. Snow-covered in winter, they were a convenient place for sledding and rough wooden skis.
On hot summer days, we ran to swim in the river in front of the bridge, where a huge pine tree grew on the shore, at the water’s edge. Here we splashed, swam, swam it from shore to shore, sunbathed and rested in the shade of a spreading talina.
In the evenings, gathering on the hill in the center of the village near Natalia Averyanovna’s house, we played various outdoor group games, such as hopscotch, chizhik, lapta, gorodki, catch-up, etc.
Children’s interest was aroused by local collective farm production facilities. One of them was a blacksmith shop.
Another such place of children’s curiosity was a grain mill and a mechanized mill, where collective farmers always worked. Andrey Fedorovich Fedorov was an indispensable mechanic here, and the mechanisms entrusted to him are always in working order. He has 5 children in his family.
As each of us grew up, our parents introduced us to work. It was quite natural for the working village way of life. We joined haymaking early. I remember how dad, on one of the summer days when the whole family was in the hayfield, put me in front of him and put my hands on the handle of a small boat, showed me how to handle it.
Growing up, we joined the collective farm working life. We voluntarily took pleasure in harvesting flax grown on the collective farm, driving horses, taking manure to collective farm fields from the cattle yards of fellow villagers, tamping silage when laying in deep trenches.
The primary school was in the village of Cherkashina, located on its western edge in a specially built wooden house. It was a small school with two classrooms and a small hallway that housed a large fireplace for heating.
Due to the small number of post-war students from four villages, two classes were taught in each room at the same time, which included Tatar children along with Russian children. And therefore, how much work it cost my first teacher, Maria Mikhailovna, to teach students of two nationalities according to the 2nd grade program.
Although it was about four kilometers to the school, at any time of the year and in any weather we got there on foot, most often not by road, but by a path over a man-made rampart…
My older sister Polina and my brother Anatoly, whom I had to sleep with in the same bed at first, helped me to adapt to such harsh conditions.
Having missed our parents for a week, they tried to help with household chores as much as possible: clean up the house, bring firewood and water from the cattle well into the house for drying for a week, chop ice for making drinking water, remove snow from the fence canopy.
Source: book by N.P. Zolnikov With respect and love for the Family. Tobolsk, 2020