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The simple sweetness at dusk is my best memory of childhood. �� �� Inscription When I was young, I lived with my grandmother and guarded a small house together. The deepest memory in childhood is the scallions of the cottage and grandma. Grandma's cake is notorious in the village, and now it is still full of sweet taste. At that time, I always had a mouth, and the most anticipated every day was dusk Newport 100S. In the afternoon, I sat in front of the door and looked forward to the sunset. At the moment when the sun went down, I was happy to find my grandmother to make scallion cake. In a short while, a few thin white smokes were drilled in the chimney, and slowly flew up to the sky, I don��t know which cloud it was. The sweetest moment has arrived. When my grandmother made the scallion cake, I couldn't stand the temper. In just half an hour, it became a sweet torment. Aside, I jumped around, ran around, never seriously observed, this is exactly what a magical hand, in order to make such a delicious world. Until now, I don't know the practice of scallion cake. Occasionally, I will quietly put the claws on the dough of the white flowers, gently grab a hand, secretly ran to the wall and drunk and squeezed it, Grandma found it, just a faint smile, with sticky The hand full of flour was scratching on the tip of my nose, and I became a little cat Cheap Cigarettes. As soon as the blower rang, I was quiet. The sweetness of the cake is enough to calm my heart. The aroma of the full house made me think that I entered the dream. The blower sang singly, the fire in the stove screamed, and the oil in the pot shouted. Slowly open the lid, the aroma can not help, and quickly overflowed, the whole village is full of cake fragrance. Suddenly, my world has become fragrant. The cake was just the best when I was out of the pot. I was always anxious. I would rather be inhaled by the hot, and I would not like to eat the cake in the evening. Grandma just smiled and looked at me with pity: "Don't worry, boy." When I went home, my grandmother would bring a big bag of cake to me. The bag was full of aroma and full of fragrance. Warm, warm. Grandma also said: "This cake Cigarettes Online, must be chewed, will become more and more fragrant." I laughed, laughing all eyes are tears. There seems to be some residual heat in the hands, and the aroma seems to be still lingering at the tip of the nose. The scent that drifted through my childhood is a memory I can never forget. Whenever the night is quiet, my face will always show the face of my grandmother's kindness, accompanied by smoke, the fragrance of the silky fragrance, still fragrant, sweet, has become the eternal eternal heart.

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