Miss a bowl of hand rolling noodles

I went to a noodle shop in Hengjing town to eat noodles the day before yesterday , It's the worst bowl of noodles I've ever eaten , Su Jiao seems to have a sour smell , It's hard to swallow .

I said to my colleague Zhang Chang ：“ Now eat and eat , There is no noodle made by my sister and brother when I was a child （ hand-made noodles ） delicious .” The taste of that side is still deep in my taste buds .

When I was a child, rural people usually made noodles by themselves , I seldom go to town to roll and buy noodles . Whenever the wheat is harvested , After the village is handed over to the state, the surplus wheat will be distributed to the villagers according to their heads . When my family gets wheat , Mother seemed to have eaten honey and had a smile on her face , She couldn't wait to take the wheat to the beach in front of her door and clean it up . Remove the door panel , Put the cleaned wheat on the door panel to dry .

The sun is burning , Grain by grain of wheat in the hot sun , In the cicada's cry , Bask in the sun , Mother will bite wheat with her teeth , She knew if wheat was dry . In the evening, my mother was under the kerosene lamp , Pour the wheat into the bamboo plaque , Pick one by one , Pick out sand and other sundries from the wheat , Make sure the flour is clean .

The eldest sister took the wheat to the processing plant next to the irrigation station in the brigade to roll the flour . Sometimes I go with my eldest sister , The flour mill rumbled , Seems to be deafening , Whenever the flour is rolled , His face and body were covered with dust , The eldest sister looks like a white haired girl , She always said ：“ I told you not to come, but to come .” Elder sister blamed me , I followed my eldest sister back , The heart is unspeakably happy .