My Paradise

I have a fun paradise, which is the small yard of my grandmother's house. There was a tall persimmon tree in the yard, and I spent an interesting childhood with me.

In early autumn, I was helping my grandmother peel taro under the persimmon tree when a flock of chicks came running toward me with their beaks open. Well! A flock of dry rice chickens came. I picked rotten taro and threw it to them. They opened their mouths, pecked, swallowed, pecked again, swallowed again ...... for a long time, then they finally had enough and went to the mud at the root of the wall to dig their paws and keep throwing the mud on the concrete floor, making new mud all over the floor, and Grandma would not scold them. We a few naughty children some "indignant", grandmother always laugh and say that the chicken if scared will not eggs, you eat the white eggs in the morning will not be. I can't help it, they are Grandma's treasure! This favor can not compete.

It was hard for the chickens to sleep, and then the kittens came. Rooster seems to be born with the cat does not get along, the slightest indiscretion to the kitten scratch a claw, the kitten always look at it with a blank face, stay in the big swinging motionless. Suddenly, the mother cat came, showing her teeth and barking at the rooster, who did not dare to be arrogant. Without the disturbance of the rooster, the kitten even lies on the grass next to the chicken nest and snores. Hey! Lazy cats are lazy cats!

The sun was warming the ground, so I helped Grandma pick beans under the persimmon tree. Grandmother poured out the rotten or broken beans on the clean ground, and the chicks immediately sprang up at the sound and dashed forward to fight for food. The mother hen is always unhurriedly swaying over, she pecks the beans one by one, but never eats a bite herself, leaving them for the chicks to eat, showing motherly love; while the rooster is somehow out of nowhere, just pecking at himself, and then shrugging his tail in the yard when he's full.

There is not a day that goes by that the cat and the dog don't fight. When the cat can't beat the dog, it jumps up on the persimmon tree, and it sometimes scratches all the persimmons on the tree. The cat can escape by jumping up and down, and the dog is so anxious that it can't do anything about it. Hey, what a pair of rivals.

When the persimmons are ripe, the red persimmons are hanging on the branches. When the wind blows, the persimmons gently shake and nod, as if to tell others that I am about to ripen. The red persimmons on the branches would sometimes attract a flock of birds, who would eat any soft ripe persimmons. I always took a bamboo pole to chase them, but I always lost the battle and just gave up.

The persimmons need to be picked in advance and stored for a while to ripen naturally so they can be eaten. Peel off the skin of ripe persimmon and take a sip, wow! So sweet! It's as sweet as drinking honey. Grandma would make persimmon cakes out of the persimmons she couldn't finish. I am still ashamed of one thing about persimmon cakes. Grandma threaded the cakes one by one, like a big garland, and hung the dried cakes up to entertain guests for the New Year. But who knows, my greedy mouth ate one today and one tomorrow. When Grandma tried to get the persimmon cakes for the New Year, she found that there was only one big coil left and none of the persimmon cakes were left. Luckily, I admitted my mistake in time and got my grandmother's understanding.

This was my unrestrained paradise - my grandmother's house, where all the happiness of my childhood was collected!