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When I was alive, I used an ancient spinning wheel. When I was 73 years old, I said to my mother affectionately, "Mother is gone mokingusacigarettes.com, leave you spinning wheel!" The mother took the spinning wheel of the grandma, often spinning the spinning wheel. When the spinning wheel ��squeaked��, it seemed as if the grandma and her mother and daughter were talking with each other. The mother felt that the grandma never went away and was always on her own. Around. Spinning is a long process. In the late autumn, the cotton and peach in the cotton field in the production team are blooming. One cotton and one tree flower. My mother led me and my sister-in-law to walk through the cotton field. The recovered cotton must be weighed and stored in the warehouse. In addition to handing in cotton at the end of the year, it is distributed to each household by head. The returned cotton is seed cotton. The mother needs to expose it to the sun, and then go to the cotton where it is rolled into a roll of regular cotton batting. Take it back and rub it into a thick, thin, long and thin cotton melon. You can spin the thread. . When spinning, my mother was not too tired, and always held me in my arms. I sat on my mother's lap and was not sensible. I didn't feel the tiredness of my mother. I just felt that my mother was intimate and warm. I was attached to it. Harbour. During the spinning process, the mother's right hand kept spinning the spinning wheel. The cotton gourd in the left hand was like silkworm spinning, and it was exhausted a little. As the cotton thread stretched, the mother's left arm was placed exaggeratedly back and forth. Akira, I think the mother of the spinning thread is not only a poet, who is pouring poetry, but also a dancer, who repeats the rhythm of life with ease, and with a smile and satisfaction, takes off each spindle spindle Online Cigarettes, That was the fruit of her labor, and the meal that the loom swallowed. The soil cloth weaved from our home is thick and warm. Then we take it to the dyeing workshop and dye the mattress surface with white flowers on a blue background, just like a piece of blue and white porcelain artwork, simple and generous, revealing the original beauty. The large crotch cotton pants and quilted jackets I used to wear are all made of earthen cloth, and there is a kind of real warmth from the inside out. The old house in the old garden collapsed and disappeared. Only the cloth weaved by my mother ��s spinning thread was left at the bottom of the box Newport Cigarettes. I did n��t make any clothes. I only remembered that it was a mother ��s legacy. On the cheeks, warm to the heart.

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