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我不喜欢那些住在大城市里高高在上的人,我不喜欢花钱如流水一般的人,我不喜欢不知道什么是苦的人……我习惯吃饭的时候,把碗里的饭都吃完,一粒饭也不剩。我种过田,我知道那是什么感觉。记得很久以前,那时候还没有收割机,我跟着母亲在稻田里用镰刀割稻子,累得直不起腰。父母把割好的稻子用大推车推到家门口的水泥地上,然后叠放好。听着机器嘈杂的声音,把稻子放在机器上,在“哒哒哒……”的巨响中,谷粒脱离了稻秆散在水泥地上,星星点点的,很闪耀!旁边是放得很整齐的稻草,把它叠成稻草堆,以后可以用它烧火煮饭。
I do not like people living in big cities, I do not like people who spend money like water, I do not like people who do not know what is bitter ... ... I used to eat, the bowl of rice are eaten A meal is not left. I kind of cross the field, I know what it feels like. I remember a long time ago, when there is no harvester, I followed the mother in the rice fields with scythe cut rice, tired straight upstairs. Parents put the cut rice with a large cart pushed to the cement floor in front of the house, and then stacked well. Listen to the machine noisy voice, the rice on the machine, in the “da da da ...... ” in the loud noise, the grain from the rice stalks scattered on the concrete floor, little stars, very shining! Next to put Very neat straw, stacked it into the straw, you can use it after the fire cooking.