She knew that freezing rain was a type of weather hazard in itself.

To put it simply, freezing rain is rainwater that falls and falls on the surface of objects with a temperature below zero, reaching the freezing point, so it freezes.

The rain has always fallen evenly, so this landscape of a layer of ice crust is formed.

This Bingkezi actually has a scientific name, called Yusong, but she thought the term Bingkezi was vivid and simple, so she kept calling it that way.

The reason why freezing rain is a disastrous weather is precisely because it will freeze the roads and hinder traffic; it may also crush tree branches and cause hidden dangers of falling objects from high altitudes.

If it gets more serious, it may break the power poles, causing trouble for the power supply - although the current power supply situation no longer requires other troubles - and may even collapse the house.

She knows this because she experienced it once when she was a child - in fact, freezing rain is a relatively rare weather phenomenon in the area where she lives, and she has only seen it once in her entire life.

That time, as soon as I went out, I found that the world had changed. A few randomly thrown bricks outside my house, grass poles on the roadside, and even clods of soil under the corners were all covered with a thick layer of ice.

It's so clear, like a layer of glass, that the things wrapped in the ice are reflected beautifully.

She didn't know what this phenomenon was at that time, and she was young. She just found it novel and interesting, and just touched the ice hockey balls everywhere.

Later, when I grew up, I accidentally remembered this incident, so I looked it up and found out that it was called freezing rain.

She warmed herself up and couldn't help but stand by the window and look around.

I don’t know when it started to rain. It didn’t stop before going to bed last night. But judging from the thickness of the ice on the windows, it probably started raining quietly during the night.

The glass that had just been cleaned was hit by many raindrops, which made her head buzz.

I was so upset that I just didn’t look at it. Anyway, I guess the ice crust would form a new layer soon, which would be considered a natural rainproof layer...

Just, we don’t produce protective layers, we are just nature’s porters…

When the window was opened, rainwater drifted in, and some ice shards burst in from breaking the ice shell. They quickly melted into a trace of water under the warm room temperature.

She briefly cleaned up and cleaned up, and then thought about whether to break the ice shells outside the other windows.

After thinking for a while, I decided to break it up, but not now, let's wait until dark.

Although the temperature during the day will be higher than at night, the temperature difference between day and night is not much different, so opening the windows during the day will not make it warmer than at night. The difference between the two is just colder and colder.

In this case, she would definitely choose to hit Bing Kezi quietly on a dark and windy night to minimize the possibility of being observed.

As for the frequency of cleaning, she has temporarily set it to once a day, and can adjust it depending on the situation.

I don’t know how long this rain will last, but I have seen the power of freezing when I opened the window just now. What if this rain also lasts for ten days and a half?

The current ice shell can be melted by blowing it with a heater, but if the freezing rain does not stop, she is afraid that it will freeze to death if it stays for a long time, so it must be cleaned regularly.

There is also a large window on the balcony and a small window in the kitchen at home. No one is left indifferent, and it doesn't take much trouble to break the ice on three windows every day.

Since this work has to be postponed to the evening, let's take some time to have breakfast.

The window was open just now, but it was still a bit cold. She stayed away from the cold window and stepped into the space.

First, I put on thick and soft house socks, washed my hands comfortably with hot water, and rolled back to bed when I was out of the room.

He held out a bowl of hot soy milk, not the thick freshly squeezed soy milk, but ordinary soy milk water, a big bowl, steaming.

She put her lips to the edge of the bowl and took a sip. The aroma was very fragrant, but it was so hot that she smacked her tongue.

After putting the upgraded soy milk aside to cool down, she waved her hand and took out a grilled sausage.

It is a small, round, short, thick, and oily black pepper sausage. The surface of the white-gray sausage is slightly browned by frying, mixed with a few black peppercorns.

Although it was grilled until the skin burst, but just from the appearance, it didn't seem as appetizing as the red grilled sausage.

But the strong smell of meat that spreads as soon as it was taken out of the space clearly showed that this was definitely not the case.

Use a paper towel to hold the thin wooden stick to prevent the oil juice from flowing. Gently eat it from the top. The taut outer skin protects the meat filling, highlighting a smooth texture and hot and fragrant shape in the mouth.

Bite it hard, a slight, pleasant tearing sound is transmitted to the ears, and the thick meat juice and oil burst out simultaneously.

It's fragrant, elastic, hot, and oily. You can inhale and roll it in your mouth to cool down while eating.

The more you chew, the faster the heat trapped in the casing escapes. The palatable temperature and just the right seasoning make you the most perfect grilled sausage.

You can taste the meaty texture, and from time to time, a black peppercorn will explode on the tip of your tongue.

It was like a micro-explosion, leaving a numbing mark on the tongue, and the unique spicy aroma of black pepper spread like smoke.

One grilled sausage went down quickly, and she was still not satisfied, so she simply ordered another one. This time it was a red sausage without black pepper. It had a subtle sweetness by itself, and it was sprinkled with chili powder and cumin to add more flavor. Flavor.

After eating two sausages, my lips became as moist as the sausages. She turned to the soy milk and took another careful sip. This time it wasn't painful and it was within the range of being able to be eaten.

That was easy. She put on her gloves and took out a fried dough stick that had just come out of the pan. It was golden and crispy, and she took a big bite. The smell of fried flour had a slight salty taste, and it was extremely crispy.

Chewing the remaining fried dough sticks in his mouth, he placed the remaining fried dough sticks on the soy milk bowl, took out a plate of refreshing mustard shredded pickles, picked up a chopstick and stuffed it into his mouth. It was also good to eat with the fried dough sticks.

The remaining fried dough sticks are dipped in soy milk and eaten first. The crispy outer skin is softened by soaking, but the overall tough texture is still retained.

When you have eaten more than half of it and the soy milk in the bowl has gone down a lot, you can directly press the fried dough sticks into the bowl, soak them first, and then taste the other flavor of the fried dough sticks when they are completely soft.

Now a plate of sauce-flavored pancakes was brought out. The pancakes were crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. They were covered with salty and sweet sauces and the aroma of chopped green onions.

Finally, I ate a bowl of soy milk and soaked fried dough sticks, making me feel full and warm for breakfast.

After eating, I wandered around to eat and started tracing the copybook.

She has been writing this copybook for a long time, more than three months, and she feels pretty good about herself. Although she cannot say that she is completely transformed and has a new spirit when writing, the effect of writing it slowly with bare hands is also good.

So today I suddenly became interested and grabbed a piece of grid loose-leaf paper from the excerpt section, intending to copy something and try the pen.

She pulled out a poetry book from the space and flipped through several pages at random, but still felt unsatisfied. Finally, she chose a long poem that she knew by heart.

I wrote it down slowly, stroke by stroke, without being arrogant or impatient. When I took a look at it, it was really good.

Yes, Not Bad! Praise myself! Wei Jiao put the page away with satisfaction, and decided to go to the baking area to pick out a small piece of bread to reward herself later.

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