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Chapter 12 Harvesting Millet

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    The field at the gate belongs to my family. After the millet was harvested a few days ago, the field became vacant.  In the morning, grandpa took 2 bamboo mats and put them in the field, drying 4 bags of millet in them.  Now that the weather has changed, grandparents are speeding up the harvesting of millet.

    My sister and I came to the edge of the field and went down to the field to see what we could do.  "Grandma, we are here to help." I walked quickly to the edge of the mat and said, looking at the undried millet inside.

    "Are you wearing shoes or not? See if you hurt your foot, don't help, take your sister to the side."  After grandma refused my request, I had no choice but to give up helping, and turned around and went home with my sister first.

    After searching at home for a while, I took the smallest wooden bench and came to the edge of the field again with my sister.

    "Sister, sit on the bench obediently and watch us right here. I'll help my grandparents harvest the millet."

    "Okay", my sister just sat down and played with the weeds and flowers on the edge of the field by herself.

    I came to grandma again, without any explanation, picked up the small broom in the mat, and swept the grains to the middle bit by bit, so that they could gather in the middle.

    "Why don't you wear shoes, what's wrong with poking blood?" Grandma said, looking at my feet with love.  "If you want to help sweep, tap lightly, if you try harder, the millet will be swept to the opposite side"

    "Well, okay, I see", although he said nonchalantly, but he was actually very grateful in his heart. Just now, he used too much force, and he wanted to sweep it hard, but he ignored the important point, which caused a lot of grains in front of me to be caught by me.  I swept from one side of the mat to the other side of the mat, and even crossed the grain pile in the middle, I had to admire myself.

    "When sweeping, be careful not to miss the millet. The missed millet can cook a bowl of rice, even if it is used to feed the chickens." Grandma stood in another bamboo mat and said while sweeping the millet.  .

    "Help me lead the bag after sweeping, and collect it early, or it will rain," Grandpa said while pushing the grain with a rake.  (The handle of the grain pushing rake is a piece of bamboo, and the head is made of wood, similar to Zhu Bajie's rake. One side is flat for pushing grain, and the other side is a nail ruler, which can turn the grain so that the grain can be better and more evenly  exposure to sunlight)

    "Well, I see, I'll finish sweeping this side first." After I finished speaking, I didn't dare to be careless, and I swept back and forth seriously, carefully looking for any grains that were missed, or were caught by the broom when it turned back.  landed back.

    Finally, after going around the grain pile a few times and confirming again and again, I swept the grain of this mattress into a pile.  "Grandpa, I've found a pile of them, come and pretend."

    "Immediately, take a closer look to see if there is any missing grain"

    "No problem, I've read it several times," I replied confidently and a little impatiently.  I feel like Grandpa doesn't trust me enough. Didn't he see me scanning back and forth so seriously?

    "Look, here, here, and here, these are all millet." As soon as Grandpa walked to the edge of the mat, he pointed wildly with his fingers.  what can I say?

    The speechless in my heart!  The places that grandpa pointed out are all near the edge of the mat, and if you go out, it will be mud.  Even when I just scanned, I have seen this place. Could it be that the more I go outside, the more I ignore it?

    Take the broom again, sweep the grain in these areas to the grain pile, and carefully go around the edge of the mat again to see if there is anything you haven't noticed.

    "Oh, there are more here, and there are more here" I found two more places with grains one after another.

    "Look, I told you to scan carefully, but you still don't believe me, is there still millet?" Grandpa said with an expression that you didn't listen to what I said was right.

    "I'm done sweeping, this time it's really useless." I squeezed the broom in my hand, and said with uncertainty, I didn't dare to put down the broom, afraid that I might miss it later.

    Grandpa picked up a pig feed bag beside him, handed it to me, and told me to take it.  Then show me how to hold this pocket.  First of all, I was asked to grab the corner of the pocket, pull it out with both hands, and open the entrance of the pocket as wide as possible, then pinch the edge of the pocket tightly, and keep this movement, waiting for him to pour the grain into it.

    Grandpa pushed the dustpan into the grain pile, and more than half of the grain went into the dustpan. With both hands inward, he dug the grain into the dustpan until it was full.

    After it is full, hold both sides of the dustpan with both hands, and lift it up, and the grains of a dustpan will be picked up.  They went into the pockets one after another.

    It seems quite simple, it has no technical content, why does grandpa have to ask me to pay more attention.

    ? Back and forth repeatedly??3 After the dustpan, the pocket was already half full, but at this moment, an accident happened suddenly.  The dustpan in my grandfather¡¯s hand was pouring grains into the pocket normally, but I didn¡¯t grasp it firmly with my right hand, and when the pocket slipped, the opening of the entire pocket tilted backwards. Coupled with the impact force of the grains poured in, the opening of the pocket was directly washed away  It's down, and I didn't fix the bottom of the bag, and most of the bag of grains fell directly on the mat

    I stood by the side at a loss, looking at the pocket that fell on the ground.  Grandpa quickly put down the dustpan, lifted the bag up, held the mouth of the bag with both hands, pulled it up hard, and stood the bag next to me again.

    "Look, I told you to catch it firmly. Hold on to the side of the pocket and don't let go. Once you let go, all the millet will pour out." Unexpectedly, my grandpa did not scold me severely.  "Sweep the poured millet into a pile, and then hold the sacks. Hurry up, or the rain will fall."

    "Yeah" I breathed a sigh of relief and quickly swept the millet into a pile, then grabbed the edge of the pocket with both hands, and my knuckles turned white due to too much force.  After a few minutes without any danger, the bag was full. Grandpa took out the pre-installed small rope from his trouser pocket and tied the bag tightly.

    After the pocket is fastened, gently put it aside, then pick up another pocket, and continue the previous operation. Slowly, I also mastered the skill of pulling the pocket.  During the process of grandpa bringing the millet and pouring the millet into the pocket, I have to hold the pocket tightly; after pouring, until the arrival of the next pinch of millet, I can just hold the pocket lightly  , You can even let go of your hands, of course, you must ensure that the pockets will not fall down.

    The millet of the 2 mattresses was put back into the pockets intact, and four bags were filled.  The packed millet, my grandpa brought home bags by bag, my grandma and I couldn¡¯t help, a bag of millet weighed at least 80 catties, it¡¯s not something that a brat like me can carry.  After all, I am not as heavy as a bag of millet.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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