派考验寻找家感觉.docVIP

派考验寻找家感觉 　　当尝到自己千辛万苦做成功的派时，我真正体会到通过辛勤劳动换来的果实是多么美味，也重新记起童年的快乐和家的温馨?? 　　“I made a pie today.” 　　That is a simple, five word sentence. Yet with that simple sentence I elicited the wheezing1) laughter of a proud, chain-smoking2) mother on the telephone last night. 　　My childhood was spent among the pie makers. My mother would drag my sister and me out for long walks where we would pick wild strawberries from the ditches3) that lined the country highway where we lived. In my memory, it was always a quiet but scorchingly4) hot day when we picked them, and my sister was constantly complaining about being thirsty and bored. 　　Together, the three of us would slowly work our way down the road, and cars that passed would honk5) and wave at us—my mother using it as an excuse to stand up and give her back a break from bending over for so long. 　　My grandmother, my mother’s mother, lived a block down from a cherry orchard. The old man who owned the farmland that included the cherry orchard always allowed my grandmother to come and pick as many cherries as she would want. My grandfather, a carpenter, would return the gesture by fixing odds and ends6) and building small furniture for the old farmer. 　　Again, my sister, mother, and I were sent out to pick the dark red berries off the trees. My memory, here too, is filled with heat. We would walk to the orchard across the unplanted field overgrown with milkweed that I loved to pick; ripping it open like corn husks7), I’d throw the sticky white stalks at my sister who would scream, running for cover behind the solitary tree that stood in the middle of the field. 　　When we got back to Grandma’s house, she would set to work. With a dip of her sifter8) in that green plastic tub, she would sprinkle9) a snow shower of flour down onto the kitchen table. Smacking10) the start of dough on the table, her hands would knead11) and slide around the floured table. The wooden rolling pin12) would push the dough out, and if it were too sticky, she