Sunday at home, always want to find something to eat, looking for half a day did not particularly want to eat, into the kitchen found that there are a lot of sweet potatoes, baked sweet potatoes should be good, the brain has the idea of baked sweet potatoes, washed a few into the oven next to it, up and down the temperature are adjusted to 250 degrees, the time is set to 40 minutes, to the living room while watching TV while waiting for sweet potatoes to bake. Whenever I talk about sweet potatoes, I think of my childhood. When I was a child, my family planted sweet potatoes every year, sweet potatoes produced high, and when harvesting, I chose the large ones directly inserted into thin slices with tools, dried them in the field, and turned them into dried sweet potatoes for storage, and the smaller ones were left to be stored in the cellar or well, and could be eaten for a winter. My family has a well where frozen vegetables, sweet potatoes, etc. are stored. Every time I had to take something from the well, my father called me, and I became a downhole worker, and my father took the thing that covered the well, tied it to my chest with a rope, and slowly put me down, and then put down the basket tied at the other end. The height of this well is about 3 meters deep, the diameter of the mouth is about 1 meter, the further down the bigger, from the top down you can not see things, everything is hidden inside. I put the things I needed into the basket according to my father's requirements, and my father first pulled up the basket containing the things, and then pulled me up, and completed the tasks assigned by my mother with the cooperation of father and daughter, and I often went to the well workers all winter, in fact, I still liked the feeling of being pulled up and down by my father with a rope, and I missed it very much.
