Some words about my farther-in-low (or mistakes in Past Tenses) Every Friday evening I drive my car to small town Otradnoe, near Saint-Petersburg. There is the hause of my parents-in-low, Nicolay and Tamara. My wife's father served as a pilot in the Soviet Air Force and after his service was finished he stayed in Central Asia. But after the collapse of the Soviet Union, their family was forced to leave their home in Samarkand (Uzbekistan) and move to Russia. As refuge family they got a loan in USD1.000, I had added some money from my "nest-egg", and we bought a small plot of land in the Otradnoe and start to build a little house with two floors. That time was very hard for Russian people (like the Great Depression in the United States), we did not have enough funds for the building, so we had to carry out all works ourselves. We prepared a project of the construction (it must be approved by Architectural Department), we kneaded a concrete for the foundation, we lay down bricks on the wall, we installed windows and doors, we erected the heating and water supply systems, we mounted the rafters for the roof... The work was very heavy and I was really wandered from my father-in-low: that time he was 60 years old, but I couldn't keep up to him. He continued to operate with a shovel or a hammer then I was ready to fall down on the ground. "Is he of iron?", - I requested myself. But after we have finished the foundation, he asked me: "How are your hands?". "Not very good", - answered I - "It's pain in my muscles at night". "Same with me," - he confirmed, - "And more - I can't squeeze my fingers to a fist, it don't fit tightly. But I can keep a stalk of the shovel... or the glass, for example..." I understood him and took two glasses and the bottle. One dangerous incident almost happened when we were mounting outermost roof trusses. The truss began to lurch out and we clutched to it together and tried to pull it back. If one of us lets go of the beam, second man would fall down along with the truss. But it was 8 meters about... Nobody let go of his end of the beam. Nobody fall down. Together we kept the truss. You understand, that day we took the bottle and two glassis again... Soon my father-in-low will be 80 y.o. He and his wife Tamara live in the house, work in their garden (not for a profit, but for pleasure only), and when we come to them, they like to talk about that hard and interesting time. And Nikolay sometimes pulls off two glasses of the shaft. Not very often, but sometimes. He is really man, I think.