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Woodboard Painting Prose in Autumn
First, good millet sorghum

"Sanzang" said: "Liang, so Su also." I don't think so. It has always been thought that sorghum is a vulgar peasant man with a dark face, thick hands and big feet, and even a rough temper. Not only that, but also ugly, uneducated, not as elegant as wheat, not as tender as millet, not as warm as corn. What's more, I often hear my mother say: grind some sorghum rice to cook porridge in the morning and evening. It can be seen that sorghum is only used to grind rice and cook porridge, not as a staple food. When the flour is ground and the cake is cooked, the skin first has a purple-black luster, like tanned skin under the scorching sun. The first meal is still soft, wait until it is cold. When you chew it, it will turn white and harder than a brick. So my mother seldom sticks sorghum flour cakes, but uses them to make noodles. Among the neighbors far and near, only the mother's music and harmony are the most appetizing, and there has always been a Zhang Le and a bed at home. Watching my mother mix noodles, boiling water, pulling sorghum noodles and rubbing them on a bed, the bed is all strips. One of them broke and fell into the water, turning it around with the boiling water. When a lump of sorghum noodles is rubbed, the water is full of noodles many inches long. Before the stove, my mother was busy adding firewood, stirring up the stove fire, burning a few pieces, and those pieces were cooked (the sorghum noodles were not hard and broke). Take it out, soak it in cold water for several times, each person has a bowl, and eat it with relish. Sorghum noodles are rarely seen now, and there are not even beds with layering. However, once I happened to see a sorghum field standing in the distance, which was much higher than other crops. The straw is very thin and beautiful, with a faint blue color. It is a white sorghum field.

The ears of white sorghum are fluffy and loose, and the roots are open upwards, breathing the blue light of the high sky. As soon as the wind blows, they fall heavily to one side, and as soon as the wind passes, they will recover unscathed. They bend over the earth, humble, self-contained and unattractive. Even a sorghum growing alone in a low crop shows a silent character. After autumn, when the sorghum is ripe, people cut it down one by one along the stem with a sickle, carefully put it in the ground, and drill off the sorghum ears, leaving the fallen sorghum stem and the iron fence head more than a foot high standing on the ground. Sorghum was pulled into the yard and piled aside. It was sunny and sunny, and people opened them in bundles and scattered them all over the yard. Red sorghum and white sorghum are not conspicuous at all. Who can pay close attention to these coarse grains? They are so common that most of the time they are only suitable for feeding animals, and the animals can't finish eating them and then transport them to the market for sale. Only sparrows flew in from the wheat straw pile without losing time, pecked at the particles and insects on it, and then flew away in a hurry. Sunlight hits the ear of each seed, absorbing their moisture and taste, then scattering on them and infiltrating into the yard. After the sorghum is dried, it rolls back and forth several times with the wheel, and the sorghum rice quietly falls under the sorghum pulp. A Mu Cha came, and another steel fork came. Sorghum pulp was picked and piled aside, leaving only sorghum rice on the ground. People put sorghum rice into the warehouse. Sorghum pulp piled on the edge of the yard has been blown by the wind, wet by rain and exposed to the sun. Some people carry them home, spray water to soften them, break the black sorghum shells, tie the cooking comb and plane the broom. People use them to sweep kang, sweep the floor, brush pots and wash dishes. Swish, swish, swish, swish, swish, swish. As if the days were swept away by it, it was refreshing.

I have been afraid to walk in the fields with sorghum grating heads. They cut obliquely, like blades, which took a long time to heal, but later became sharper and more likely to scratch people's skin. After air-drying, people took off the grates, tied the sorghum stalks and pulled them back. Sorghum stalks lean on the woodpile with their heads up and their feet on the ground, or stand on the well. No one is easy to meet and is unwilling to cook. As a result, the turquoise sorghum stalks slowly turn yellow and mature under the baking of time. Shiny skin and prominent joints still maintain the vigorous momentum of standing in the center of the earth, which seems to show people that its ultimate mission has just begun.

At that time, every heatable adobe sleeping platform was covered with a mat made of sorghum stalks instead of reed mats. There is a big fire-resistant kang, and Huang Cancan's mats are covered with vivid patterns, which are the patterns of the years that people weave. By the end of the year, people will clean the kang mat with clean water, or simply replace it with a new mat. The new summer sleeping mat is milky yellow, unlike the used summer sleeping mat, the color is getting older and older. For example, when a woman gets old in life, the powder disappears, leaving only a sallow face. The new mat is a new face. When you spread it on the kang, the fragrance of straw spread all over the house, as if it brought a year's field breath. The children jumped, rolled and crawled happily on it, and the adults stood on that foot with happy and satisfied smiles.

Sorghum straw is a good material for building roofs, and it is also the first choice for people. People have to prepare in advance if they want to build a house. Sometimes it takes years to save a house. If you can't keep it, you can borrow it from others. If there is one next year, it will take several years to return it. It doesn't matter for a few years, they won't be lazy, and the children in that family are still young, and they are not in a hurry to build a house and marry a wife. "Don't worry, wait until you have it at home." They reason with people who borrow sorghum stalks. People from other villages also come to buy sorghum stalks. They drove the carriage and shouted in the street. After bargaining with others, his carriage was loaded with several bundles of sorghum stalks. Perhaps, at the end of the day, he will have a good harvest and return home with a full load. People moved the sorghum stalks that had been dried for several years to the edge of the yard, where there was a vertical pit that was only waist-deep for one person. People jumped into the pit, and they peeled off a layer of leaf sleeves tightly wrapped in straw with a sickle, revealing a shiny skin. Leaf sleeve clean, began to tie the traverse to the child. I really didn't notice what technology they used and I didn't know how long it would take, so I piled some long handkerchiefs aside. Those handles as thick as small tree trunks have a kidney every foot or so to fix several sorghum stems. Kidney is also made of dry sorghum straw. Soak the sorghum straw, flatten it with a wheel, remove the pulp in the middle, leaving only a tough epidermis, which is soft and can be bent and knotted. A good handle is firm, firm and beautiful. The waist knot is nailed into the handle along one side of the handle, and only a row of beautiful flowers are exposed, which will not be scattered because of people's movement and long time. People build houses, make ridges, put purlins on them, arrange handkerchiefs one by one, and then cover them with a thick layer of soil without hanging tiles. People will live in houses built with sorghum stalks for ten, twenty or thirty years. At first, the handle of the roof was milky yellow, then it became dark yellow, brown red and finally black red, without losing the luster of the skin. People feel that time is a grindstone, which can polish everything, especially those old things. Under the polishing of time, they are more and more radiant, more moist and more delicate.

I remember that the top section of sorghum straw is particularly long, as thick as bamboo chopsticks, and there is still a long section after brazing the top sorghum. After autumn, all the food went into the barn, the horses rested and the land fell asleep, but people were not idle. They went to cut the sorghum stalks one by one, then washed them and dried them. At night, they sit under the lamp and sew a cover plate-a round cover plate. So many people build a grain depot, a basin and a water tank. Wash, dry and fold the rest. When people wrap jiaozi, they will put jiaozi, and when they bake big cakes, they will enlarge them. On holidays, people find a cover to brush. After the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, white steamed bread with red dots, hedgehog-like flower lambs, tower-shaped jujube cakes, and jiaozi, who put aside the rice cakes filled with red beans, are piled on these covers ... They are so big that they can cover the pot with sorghum stalks, and hot air comes out from the cracks in the covers. After several years, they were smoked into purple-black sauce; Weaving flower baskets with sorghum stalks is not necessarily a pair of slender and scaly hands. It may be rough, with prominent joints and prickly keratin at the fingertips. Stringing curtains with sorghum stalks is the re-creation and re-development of poetic living. People cut sorghum stalks into about an inch, soaked them in tung oil, dyed them and dried them. Prepare some silver-gray grass beads, nylon ropes, some silver needles and wire baskets. Every afternoon, when the sunset passes through the alley mouth, some people put them under the door of Guanliu, or outside the door, and several people twitter and string up curtains. String together a piece of sorghum straw and a grass bead. Round grass beads make the lines of the whole door curtain soft and smooth. Hanging on the bedroom door, kitchen door, courtyard door. When people come out and go in, as soon as they lift the curtain, "wow, la, la" rings. When people leave the curtain, they still swing back and forth and make noises. When people looked back, the curtain stopped slowly and did not move, revealing a coconut grove that hated the sea on a sunny day; Sometimes it's a magpie, a mandarin duck playing in the water, or just a refreshing wave rippling there. Everything fluttered and drifted into the depths of time.

Second, there is hemp in the plain.

The epidermis of those stems contains the turquoise of secret porcelain, which has the texture of secret porcelain, delicate, smooth, smooth and dense. When they turn yellow slowly in the autumn wind, people will come to harvest. We don't value their black fruits at all, nor do we value the dried white straw, and even the leaves like the phoenix tree are not within people's attention. People only need to leave a layer of hemp on the hemp stalk, and the rest can be thrown away. The summer of filariasis passed, and people cut hemp and transported it to the pond. Too many cooks throw them into the water. A few days later, a pool of clear water turned into a green-haired old demon, emitting a pungent stench. Just like people in this land like to observe, think and act, but they are not good at words. Young people's understanding of a lot of farming does not all come from personal cultivation and practice, but from our inner doubts, our curious eyes and our capture and observation of things. Just as I actually don't know why I want to sink all the hemp into the water, I just think it should be an inevitable process of farming in ignorance. Time and again, after passing through the pond full of abutilon, I smelled the water in the pond stinking day by day, but I was surprised to find that the hard skin of abutilon slowly loosened the tightly wrapped fragile stem. At this time, what we are waiting to see is very clear. After many years, I slowly recovered the dim light and shadow left by them, and I realized that soaking is not only a way of stripping, but also a kind of kung fu to remove the wildness of plants. Just like many grains must be crushed and threshed before they are put into storage, they can get rid of their bad habits and become a warm substance.

The same is true of collecting marijuana.

But who told him to do it? This plant has only been planted once in my memory, and it is rare in that land. He must have asked the older generation. I asked his third uncle, third uncle, and his eldest brother and second brother. When they knew he was going to plant hemp, their eyes suddenly became empty, as if they had returned to distant years. A spark on the ashtray head dimmed, and they couldn't draw a trace, so they had to knock it off slowly on the sole before turning back. They speak slowly, but they haven't planted that thing for years. I remember that year, when that "who" was there, they planted it once ... So, autumn was postponed, the wind blew on the river bank, and men and women went back and forth, harvesting, soaking and burying the soil.

……

A layer of hemp skin outside the hemp stalk will fall off, and they hang loosely on the hemp stalk, just waiting for someone to peel it. There was a lot of rain that summer. I hope that every rain can dilute the stench from the small pond, but every time I pass there, the smell is getting stronger instead of decreasing. So as soon as I passed there, I left as fast as I could to avoid the plague. That's the only way for us to go to the beach. There are all kinds of vegetables in the garden on the beach: fennel, beans, pumpkins, tomatoes, green onions, eggplant and celery. Every morning, the first thing people do when they open their eyes is to take a walk in the garden, pull some green onions, pick a pumpkin, or pick a handful of beans and two eggplants. Without exception, they all had to bite the bullet and cross the hemp-soaked pond. They looked at the pool of smelly water and bundles of hemp pressed under the wet mud, held their breath, turned their heads to the other side, took a few steps and left quickly.

Finally, one day, people surrounded half the pond. They fished out bundles of hemp with hooks, used iron forks to reach the edge of the yard, peeled off pieces of stinky hemp skin, washed it, wrung it dry, smashed it on the stump, broke it into soft wires, and hung it on a wooden shelf to dry. The autumn sun shines high on the earth and shines on the yard where linen basks in the sun. Half-court hemp was blown like wicker by the wind. After a series of autumn rains, the water in the pond finally dispelled the stench and was crystal clear. Squatting by the pond, you can see small water fleas floating in shallow water, small beetles jumping up and down, and small tadpoles swimming back and forth for a long time. At this time, turquoise abutilon also turned silvery white. People unloaded them from the wooden shelves, packed them into squares, tied them tightly and stored them in the depths of the warehouse.

I remember my grandfather used them to spin hemp rope, which is the kind of thick rope commonly used in carriages. The mottled patterns on those ropes are tightly woven together, firmly binding crops, people and land.

When grandpa shakes the spinning wheel, it is also the time when the leaves wither and fall. I really don't remember what afternoon it was, how far away it was, and how sultry it was. Two rotating wagons are in a quiet street, killing lonely days with a long hemp horse. The spinning wheel wobbled, shaking the silvery white hemp into a long rope. Three rope weavers, bent, khaki faces, lean backs, undershirts, withered rattan palms and shiny rope-like melon seeds. The spinning wheel swayed, approached slowly, and was quickly pulled away. I stopped near them, which is a moving coordinate in their quadrant. With the shaking of the spinning wheel, I moved from one quadrant to another. Finally, they stopped there, and I looked back at it silently from a farther place.

Abutilon in summer is a tall plant. The leaves in the same shape as the phoenix tree all grow together, so the fields are impenetrable. They have delicate light yellow flowers, delicate and smooth, and it seems that they should not grow to such a tall figure; Perhaps this is where they confuse us-tear it off one by one, stick it on the lips or the tip of the tongue, lick it into the mouth one by one, chew it slowly, think about the taste, feel the silky smoothness, leave the fragrance between the lips and teeth, and the flower and the moon will die. The seeds of abutilon are bright milky white and the size of sesame before maturity. When we are naughty, we go to the hemp field in groups of three or five to pick up those barbed semi-millstones. Peel off the green skin and squeeze it gently from the side, and those neatly arranged small particles will jump out without hesitation, as if they have been bound in it for too long, and run out for air, but they don't want to enter the jaws. The seeds are ripe and black, but they are neither black nor soft at night; So we only remember their hardness, a kind of fruit hardness, which stays in our sensory system. We have no reason to refuse this material and spiritual enjoyment. We always taste all that the earth has given us-sweetness and suffering.

Third, fragrant corn.

Green corn is sold in the market in July and August of the lunar calendar every year. The green leaves are covered with yellow, white and variegated corn. Buy some trees when you have time, peel them, remove the thread, wash the worms, put water in the pot and cook them with fire. The smell of corn is everywhere in the house. Eat while it's hot. Good food is better than a feast. I have my own land, and I'm not worried about not eating green corn in autumn, so I didn't take it seriously. After leaving the countryside, the land is gone, but boiled corn has become a seasonal delicacy in my mind. When I go back to my hometown in the countryside in autumn, my cousins, aunts and sisters-in-law always bring some back in sacks. Some colleagues from rural areas even cut down several trees when they visited their cornfields, which was very touching. Another colleague grows corn in ditches and hillsides in front of the factory in his spare time. After autumn, when the corn is ripe, people will ask us if we want to eat it. If we want to eat it, we will chop it up in her corn field. She said it wasn't anything of value, and she was afraid that we wouldn't like it, and she was too embarrassed to refute it in person, so she let others ask. I heard that there is green corn, and a few people don't care about etiquette. When they found out which land it was, they fled everywhere like locusts.

Eating jade rice has a story to tell.

In the early years, several uncles and cousins were sent to work at night. When they were resting, they couldn't stand the temptation of delicious food, so they stole corn from the field and cooked it in the barn. When they are found, they will be deducted. It is said that several people are eating soundly. When the door rang, they looked up, but it was the grinning man who held the power of punishment standing at the door. Several people were dumbfounded at once, and they didn't even know how to eat corn. Punishment is inevitable. It is serious to borrow workers to steal corn collectively, and each worker is fined ten. Ten jobs are 100 working points. In rural areas, work points are the lifeblood of people. It's staggering to be fined so much just for eating a corn, but how can you let the monkey know the harm if you don't "kill the chicken" so much? It's called making an example.

Later, when people asked about it, they smiled and said how embarrassed they were and how they thought there was a crack in the ground. It can be seen how touching it is for a hero to walk in Maicheng.

Another man was caught stealing corn and made a review in front of the whole village. It was an autumn night, and as soon as the stars in the sky blinked, the big horn of the brigade began to call people to the front of the team department. In front of the team site is the street. Almost everyone in the village moved a chair and put it under the street lamp. Soon, the corn thief stood up and looked down at the eyes of the whole village to review his "crime". Maybe he is ashamed, maybe he has never spoken in front of so many people. He swallowed, but couldn't say a complete sentence. When people heard clearly that I had stolen a yellow stick and a white stick, all the citizens gave a "wow" and laughed, making the censorship very informal and not serious. It still smells funny and entertaining. Later, people passed this sentence around like singing lines in a big play. Whoever remembers it will sing it once. However, people still can't stop bringing green corn home, all because of the delicious temptation of corn.

And because some people burned and ate delicious corn. Just dig a pit to make a stove, put firewood on it, put corn on it, put firewood on the corn before burying the soil, and then light the dry firewood below, so that the corn will be cooked soon. Although this method is tasteless, it will smoke in the field and be very eye-catching; Therefore, most people who want to eat green corn put the corn at the bottom of the basket, cover it with firewood or grass and go home to avoid watching the green people. At night, the whole family eats corn. I failed to escape, but I was turned out and punished.

I have been a Hong Haier since I was a child, and I have never had evil thoughts about other people's things. Every time I see a young man rummaging through someone else's basket at the entrance to the village, my heart beats faster and I am extremely nervous, afraid of catching the overturned person. Look, the young man is holding an iron bar with a tip, and he doesn't open the straw in the basket. They just inserted the iron bar into the back basket a few times. Some unlucky people persist, but they think they have been punished, but they can't persist. They got away with it. Now I know this is a violation of human rights. No way, the law is not popular, people don't have that consciousness, don't know how to protect themselves, and don't know that stealing is illegal.

There is another way to eat green corn, that is, it is cooked and buried in the ash, and it will be cooked in half an hour. It is a pleasure to pick it out from the kitchen, blow it and pat it to remove the gray foam, which is tender outside and soft inside, catchy and delicious. Now, we can see a kebab oven roasting corn at the market gate. The corn has been broken into small pieces, and I don't know how many times it has been roasted. Anyway, the corn is hard and non-sticky and has no appetite.

People grind the sun-dried old corn, divide it into coarse and coarse dregs, cook porridge, paste pancakes and steam steamed bread. My mother's corn porridge is delicious. Drink a bowl of corn porridge cooked by my mother in winter morning to warm my stomach and be comfortable all day. But my mother doesn't cook tortillas as well as her third aunt. Third aunt's tortillas are very thin. A thin layer of cake, crisp and tender, fried cabbage in a larger pot, smooth taste. Sister Wu grew up eating three aunts' stickers, so she often talks about it.

Only when I studied economic geography did I know that the hometown of corn was in Mexico, and it was the Ming Dynasty in China that made its customers plant invincible in China. This anti-customer-oriented crop is a witness that many ordinary people in China are moving from poverty to well-off. Now, who knows, green corn is not yesterday's green corn. After scientific cultivation, they have produced many varieties, such as sweet corn, sticky corn and fruit corn. However, eating and eating is not as clear and fragrant as that silly corn.

Fourth, the empty mountain boiled white stone

Now, I still remember the rough short petiole, long heart-shaped leaves and broad convex veins of sesame leaves. When writing this, I seem to have bumped into them again and accidentally cut my arm by it.

We like to draw them around the garden, and then draw dense flowers as the boundary or fence of the garden. There is too much fluff on its pale pink long cylindrical morning glory, like its hair, which is not as delicate and beautiful as tofu pudding. Such flowers are pulled up one after another around sesame stems, and some people borrow them, which shows that people's lives are getting better every day. Sesame blossoms are getting higher and higher. I think this must be what you said when you were full and comfortable. How to listen to it makes people smile. When sesame flowers wither, small houses grow obliquely from sesame stems. Each house has four rooms, six rooms and eight rooms. There are too many sesame seeds in each family, and they are too few to count. In autumn, the small house will automatically open the skylight one day. At this time, you can no longer lift a sesame stalk casually; Because those little sesame seeds have lived in it for too long and are bored, ready to jump out of the skylight at any time. Even if you tilt their house a little, they will lose no time to run barefoot one by one. It looks like a group of children who have never seen the world. When they first see the blue sky, white clouds and colorful world, they will run around curiously. Therefore, when people harvest sesame seeds, they can't wait until they are ripe, but open the sickle in advance, tie it up and pull it into the yard. Root down, tip up, neatly stacked into a cone, or simply lean against the well, let the autumn wind and autumn rain hit. It was not until the end of autumn that people put mats near sesame piles, hung sesame stalks upside down and whipped them with wooden sticks. Bundles of sesame stalks were beaten from top to bottom, and few sesame seeds could be harvested. Sesame harvest is low, and gold is precious. People eat oil, rely on oil, and cherish oil more.

Mother put sesame seeds in a small cloth bag, and when someone came to change sesame oil in the alley, she took some to change it. The scale of sesame oil master who weighs sesame seeds is small and exquisite, almost as big as that in a drugstore. When they weigh sesame seeds, they must let customers watch them, and they will not put down the scales until they see them clearly, unlike some vendors now, before you see them clearly, the things have been packed and the prices have been quoted. Sesame is very small, as small as a needle nose and flat. This flattening is more like a needle nose. It's hard to see the structure of a needle nose as big as sesame. We haven't seen clearly how many sesame seeds we have crushed. This reminds me of the game when we planted the garden, where rows of sesame seeds were used to block other crops, just because even if someone stole it, it was just a small sesame seed.

It is said that there are black sesame seeds in the five-time method of Taoist cooking, and the other four are all white, but only black, black and white, and there is a taste-boiled white stone. After fasting, on the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, put the Allium macrostemon Bunge, black sesame seeds, white honey, mountain spring water and Bai Shiying into a pot and boil them until the clouds float away, which is very elegant. Laymen really can't make such elegant things. Look at the ninth day of September, people are far away, leaves rustle, autumn sounds die, fields are gone, and the world is in harmony. Taoism talks with boiled stones in a quiet breeze, leisurely and carefree. But my mother can't cook stones with sesame seeds, just for an elegant taste, which makes life completely uncertain. Instead, she just fried sesame seeds, made noodles with a stick, added salt and cooked dinner for us. This is just the treatment when we are sick. That was the life at that time.

Eating jade rice has a story to tell.

In the early years, several uncles and cousins were sent to work at night. When they were resting, they couldn't stand the temptation of delicious food, so they stole corn from the field and cooked it in the barn. When they are found, they will be deducted. It is said that several people are eating soundly. When the door rang, they looked up, but it was the grinning man who held the power of punishment standing at the door. Several people were dumbfounded at once, and they didn't even know how to eat corn. Punishment is inevitable. It is serious to borrow workers to steal corn collectively, and each worker is fined ten. Ten jobs are 100 working points. In rural areas, work points are the lifeblood of people. It's staggering to be fined so much just for eating a corn, but how can you let the monkey know the harm if you don't "kill the chicken" so much? It's called making an example.

Later, when people asked about it, they smiled and said how embarrassed they were and how they thought there was a crack in the ground. It can be seen how touching it is for a hero to walk in Maicheng.

Another man was caught stealing corn and made a review in front of the whole village. It was an autumn night, and as soon as the stars in the sky blinked, the big horn of the brigade began to call people to the front of the team department. In front of the team site is the street. Almost everyone in the village moved a chair and put it under the street lamp. Soon, the corn thief stood up and looked down at the eyes of the whole village to review his "crime". Maybe he is ashamed, maybe he has never spoken in front of so many people. He swallowed, but couldn't say a complete sentence. When people heard clearly that I had stolen a yellow stick and a white stick, all the citizens gave a "wow" and laughed, making the censorship very informal and not serious. It still smells funny and entertaining. Later, people passed this sentence around like singing lines in a big play. Whoever remembers it will sing it once. However, people still can't stop bringing green corn home, all because of the delicious temptation of corn.

And because some people burned and ate delicious corn. Just dig a pit to make a stove, put firewood on it, put corn on it, put firewood on the corn before burying the soil, and then light the dry firewood below, so that the corn will be cooked soon. Although this method is tasteless, it will smoke in the field and be very eye-catching; Therefore, most people who want to eat green corn put the corn at the bottom of the basket, cover it with firewood or grass and go home to avoid watching the green people. At night, the whole family eats corn. I failed to escape, but I was turned out and punished.

I have been a Hong Haier since I was a child, and I have never had evil thoughts about other people's things. Every time I see a young man rummaging through someone else's basket at the entrance to the village, my heart beats faster and I am extremely nervous, afraid of catching the overturned person. Look, the young man is holding an iron bar with a tip, and he doesn't open the straw in the basket. They just inserted the iron bar into the back basket a few times. Some unlucky people persist, but they think they have been punished, but they can't persist. They got away with it. Now I know this is a violation of human rights. No way, the law is not popular, people don't have that consciousness, don't know how to protect themselves, and don't know that stealing is illegal.

There is another way to eat green corn, that is, it is cooked and buried in the ash, and it will be cooked in half an hour. It is a pleasure to pick it out from the kitchen, blow it and pat it to remove the gray foam, which is tender outside and soft inside, catchy and delicious. Now, we can see a kebab oven roasting corn at the market gate. The corn has been broken into small pieces, and I don't know how many times it has been roasted. Anyway, the corn is hard and non-sticky and has no appetite.

People grind the sun-dried old corn, divide it into coarse and coarse dregs, cook porridge, paste pancakes and steam steamed bread. My mother's corn porridge is delicious. Drink a bowl of corn porridge cooked by my mother in winter morning to warm my stomach and be comfortable all day. But my mother doesn't cook tortillas as well as her third aunt. Third aunt's tortillas are very thin. A thin layer of cake, crisp and tender, fried cabbage in a larger pot, smooth taste. Sister Wu grew up eating three aunts' stickers, so she often talks about it.

Only when I studied economic geography did I know that the hometown of corn was in Mexico, and it was the Ming Dynasty in China that made its customers plant invincible in China. This anti-customer-oriented crop is a witness that many ordinary people in China are moving from poverty to well-off. Now, who knows, green corn is not yesterday's green corn. After scientific cultivation, they have produced many varieties, such as sweet corn, sticky corn and fruit corn. However, eating and eating is not as clear and fragrant as that silly corn.