Dumplings incense around the small building, alone in a foreign land tour

Dumplings incense around the small building, alone in a foreign land tour text / “Xiao” Yi Chen Feng ℡ someone lifted a small courtyard smoke, wind Da Zhezhuan, confided full of thoughts.A plume of fragrant dumplings haunted small building, opened a dusty story; one song after another song attacking the heart, in the soul to hook again this season.    Early summer has been to, the air is still filled with the faint fragrance.Da Zhezhuan few birds in the sky.    Courtyard inadvertently planted lotus, also poked his head.I do not know where to flying dragonfly, for a while at the top, will be in a nod, painted circle.Early in the morning, a touch of the sun, shining generous to himself, pour the dew.A sun gave birth to a child, enjoying the mother’s care.    As always, a man hanging out, both sides still is a shop, and people coming and going.”Selling the leaves slightly, iris do that,” a few hawkers selling up.Several side of the old lady refused to yield, echoed up.Just remember, a few days later, the Dragon Boat Festival is not it?    Thousands of years ago, the one with the body of a tragic write a song, it’s still loud and clear.Tears Luo Jiang, a dragon boat is catching up, sparking waves beat against the oars on both sides.Heart tumbling, tumbling.    Although, from the Dragon Boat Festival a few days, but it has long been in preparation for this festival.Family get together, pulling homemade, talk about the heart.Some businesses, also played signs, put on a series of new varieties, ready to go to war.Could not help but walk into a shop, a villain wearing a flower dress, smiled at me there.Who exudes the fragrance, the wind shuttle in the streets, passing information.Once upon a time, every eve of the Dragon Boat Festival, the mother will always be to capture some of the outside Ashiba.The main component of several kilograms of rice, two a few peanuts, a few grains of pepper, became dumplings.Mother apron, left persistent Ashiba which was rolled into a funnel-shaped.Then, the mixed ingredients, mounted on the inside, rolled skilled, knotted twine homemade.A cute little dumplings, so the birth mother’s men friends.    Naughty of me, how can you miss this great opportunity to do some good fun!Imitating her mother’s appearance, he followed suit up.The same is rice dumplings, but to my hands, it is not so matter.Wood also has done and ingredients, rolled up below the hole, slowly flowing.And so it does not flow, and on completion of the preparation, but broke Ashiba.Rogue, I had to give up.I thought: It seems that God is blessing me yeah.Dumplings in hot water tumbling over and over again wash the soul.    Dumplings cooked, I left to see, right look, finally picked out a fat boy (in fact, almost).Off his Tsing Yi, I saw the white skin, the slightest trace of luster.Although, looking at not bear to eat him, or bite down.Good slip ah, incense ah!Suddenly, out of a troublemaker, I put it to comfortably numb.I do not know when, corner office, but his mouth a few drops of tears.    Readily pick up a few dumplings, went straight went to the hostel.The sun through the tree-gap, spilled over the floor whereabouts.    Back to the house, lying on the windowsill and stare at the outside world.The woman across the courtyard, are busy wrapped dumplings, a group of children around her it!    Reminding us of scenes, I smell the fragrant dumplings floated.It is home, home.    Put pen to paper on the night of 24 May 2014