The alarm clock that was set yesterday morning didn't hear, and I woke up this morning before the alarm went to the market to buy pickles, but I haven't eaten this year, so I can't miss it. By the time they arrived at the market, the city was being cleaned up and the traders were stalling to clean up their own food stalls, and there was a rush to buy and collect the money in front of the buyers. I quickly turned around, and I didn't see a man who sold veggies, left, went to the nearby wholesale market, for a while, and I didn't see it. After the point of view of the lady who bought the vegetables, I learned that the booth was not far away. I just got out of the market door and I saw an old aunt with a tricycle with a big bag of cuisine, fresh, clean, and a special dollar and a half. I didn't hesitate to buy it at a speed, and I bought a nine-dollar plastic bag, full of a bag full of plastics, and I bought it. Steamed vegetables, good childhood memories, different from the ones you dug in the field, now bought. The whole family agreed that my steamed food was delicious, and I was even more satisfied with it。