August of 20 1 1 is really indescribable. At the beginning of the month, after writing a poem, a small accident forced the blog, which lasted for four and a half years, to stop, and Weibo and the space were all closed. The insecurity of the internet forced me to give up what I had to give up. Since then, 1 million words have been sealed, and these words will be sealed in my memory forever, as if it were arranged by God. Pity my friend for following me for so many years.
It is natural to say goodbye to your beloved words. The words piled up with life tell the wonderful and helpless life. I love them, so I started the current webpage. This is a lonely world. I don't need other people's attention, and I don't like being disturbed. I quietly write my own things and continue to interpret the charm of persistence!
Nevertheless, August is still busy and full. A two-day trip to Xiangshan 13 to 14 let us pass by Zhao Benshan; On the 20 th, I passed the "9/6" perfect score at one time; Then the family of three accompanied the in-laws to Huichang to visit relatives and worship their ancestors, which ended successfully and won their great satisfaction at a hard price.
It is worth mentioning that the physical examination results came out last week, and all the indicators were negative. The doctor said to check again after half a year, and there is no need to check again. Well, God bless, good people are safe!
Coke's birthday lasts for a whole month from the beginning of the month to the end of the month, and there are many lunar and solar calendars. From taking photo albums to traveling, I also bought a lot of clothes and cooked a big meal on my birthday, which is as important as "five stars". The child is older and will fly solo in the near future. Parents wish her all the best!
When I went back to school this morning, someone told me that the poor suffer from the wind! Tidy up the housework until 9: 30. I took a shower and went to work before my hair was dry. The phone is tight and a lot of work awaits me. Alas, this is my life!
At this moment, butterfly lovers's beautiful melody expresses my mood, and I don't know why it feels like tears ... August is really a season that makes me feel distressed, August, August that I don't give up. ...
I remember165438+1October 25th.
I've always wanted to write something for165438+1October 25th. Why do you say that? Because it was on the day of 20 10 that I ended my two-year military career. On that day, the uniform life of the troops officially became a thing of the past. Since then, I have kept it in my heart every year from165438+1October 25th, counting its days silently. On that day, I also silently recited in my mind: Today, another old soldier will bid farewell to unforgettable military life. I don't know if they have flowers on their chests and tears in their eyes. Accompanied by the music of Farewell to Comrades, they reluctantly went home.
I wonder if every soldier in the army has this habit. When they left the army for more than a year, they began to count the days of discharge day by day. After I was assigned to my company from Xinbinglian, it is common for the veterans of our company to calculate how long they will be away from the army every day. From more than 300 days to more than 200 days, the last time is getting shorter and shorter until you leave the army.
When there were still many days left, the veterans talked about how many days left to retire, with a kind of waiting and expectation in their tone. After all, the life of the army is more introverted and dull than the outside world. But when the day of discharge quietly approaches, there is obvious attachment and reluctance in their tone. Comradeship forged in more than two years will be separated from each other from now on. I don't know when we will meet next time, so how can I not be attached?
When I was a recruit, during the period of veterans' discharge, the troops had already hung farewell banners on the playground. The sentry arrangement also gives preferential treatment to veterans who are about to leave the army. Try not to put them on guard for a week or two before leaving the army. Set aside more time for them to arrange retirement-related matters. The place to go out for vacation is also reserved for them.
Let the soldiers who usually stay in the camp go out to see the places they guarded before retiring, and also buy some local specialties to take home. They still have a lot of work around them, and sometimes they envy them and hope that they can become veterans as soon as possible. Sometimes it is contradictory to think that if you become a veteran, you will soon be separated from your comrades who live together day and night.
Most veterans are very concerned about the last sentry they have stood. The sentry must have stood seriously that day. I once stood with a Guizhou veteran at his last post before he retired. After that, he and their group of retired veterans will bid farewell to the sentry post forever. That day, he was the main whistle and I was the deputy whistle. He has a gun and I have a baton. From the preparation before taking up his post to the end of his post, he was more serious than usual, as if he had completed a ceremony. The two-hour watch time passed quickly.
As usual, he carefully completed the handover procedures of the post and walked down the sentry box. It was just evening, and the sun stretched his shadow for a long time. I followed and saw him reluctantly look back at the watchtower. There is something flashing in his nostalgic eyes, and his tough body is in sharp contrast with his silent mood. I can understand his feelings at that time. He wants to bid farewell to the watchtower that accompanied him through his entire military career, and also to the military camp where he shed sweat and blood.
The day of departure finally arrived, and the veterans of the company came to the detachment by car. The red epaulettes on their shoulders were handed in by the company a few days ago, and now they are all olive green. After the veterans' discharge ceremony, they shook hands with their comrades who came to bid farewell, or hugged each other with tears.
Usually the tough guys are crying at this time, and the scene is very tragic. Then this green torrent gathered from different companies came and went quickly. The barracks, which were just crowded, were suddenly set off in silence, even a little deserted. It's just that the farewell song is still there, and the tears haven't dried when I bid farewell to my comrades. We will all leave the army, send veterans this time and become veterans next time.
When I was discharged from the army, I still had songs and a farewell team. I even left in a hurry to catch the train. Those who haven't come yet, seriously say goodbye to their comrades. But over the years, I can always remember what the teacher said to us at the farewell party: the army will always be your home, so you should go home often when you have time. This earnest words can often remind me of all kinds of memories of the army. But I never went back to see it once. Just like a wandering wanderer, I always hope to go home in the best condition, full of honor.
And now I don't have this condition. I went back to my hometown with my retired comrades in the same green leather car that took us. When I walked out of my hometown railway station, I was even in a trance. It feels like a dream, and everything is so unreal, just like the scene I dreamed in the army. Only a few days after I went home, I even kept the routine of the army, but suddenly I was not used to the whistle of the army.
It has been four years since I retired from the army, and the past of the army has gradually drifted away with time, and it has been slowly thrown into the station of the years. Some memories have long been blurred, and some can't be remembered at all, but every year on June 25th 165438+, I always feel sad when I look at the veterans who bid farewell at the station!
"Cat's eye" to see the world
I saw the spring, summer, autumn and winter years ago in her eyes and saw the neighborhood. The most beautiful thing is that the husband walks by her eyes holding his son and his wife's hand; The most important thing is to see the fate of the next second from her eyes. She accompanied me through childhood ignorance, adolescent anxiety and even a sense of security that is almost exhausted now. She is just a cat's eye on the door.
A cat's eye, let me see clearly the joys and sorrows of people and see through the indifference of the world.
I remember when I was very young, my parents always said to me before going out, "Dear, my parents are not at home. Don't open the door casually when someone knocks at the door. Don't open it until you see someone you know in the cat's eye. " At that time, the ego, the little heart, would stand on a stool and stand on tiptoe to explore the figure every time he heard the sound. Unfamiliar faces, neighbors' smiles ... Listening to the footsteps of parents coming home from work, it was both familiar and strange at that moment. In my memory, communication with the outside world is always separated by a layer of wood, but a thin layer of wood separates me from the figure outside the door into two worlds.
The "cat's eye" in front of us is round, but the graphics in it are very strange. Recently, TV always reports some news or special topics that reflect the indifference and lack of honesty in contemporary education society. Indeed, these reports have caused quite a stir in society. When a large number of news reports flooded into my mind, deja vu gradually emerged from it, and I was amazed and dumbfounded. Isn't this what I once saw in the cat's eye? Over the years, something has always appeared in my eyes, ears and heart. At that time, I was still a middle school student. In a long-awaited winter vacation, my parents worked from nine to five as always. During the rebellious period, I was more curious about the outside world. There was a strange noise outside the door, and curiosity drove me to sneak to the door and stand on tiptoe. I saw some strange faces in Cat's Eye. Are you moving? A man and a woman walked down the stairs. When they saw the people who were busy moving things, they took a detour disapprovingly. Those people went up and down several times and moved all the furniture in half an hour. I poked my head out when I heard the sound of the car running away downstairs. The next day, when I heard my neighbor abusing the thief in the corridor, I understood that the thief moved home "aboveboard" ... why? How can people's trust and the minimum sense of social justice be lost so quickly? Imagine that a few thieves can "brazenly" open the door and steal. Even if someone sees it, they think that their neighbors are moving and nobody cares. After all, the reason is very simple. There are too many people like me who see the world through the cat's eye, so it should all be caused by the cat's eye!
As a native of China, I am proud, proud, but helpless. I am proud that I live in a country with a history of 5,000 years of civilization, and proud that my motherland is called a country of etiquette and has rich cultural accumulation. As ancient people, being gentle, courteous and thrifty once gave birth to countless stories that make people alert and moved, but as modern people, why can't we learn even a little lesson and experience from them? When I heard the news that a 70-year-old man fell ill and died without help on the roadside, people watched the children fall into the water and died without help, and the newborn baby died of eating poisoned milk powder, my heart ached. Not only that, the environment I live in is almost full of fakes, lies and dummies ... Tracing back to the source, I don't think it's because of weak human feelings and cold society. A "cat's eye" is indifferent to the world and sees through its changes.
I want to say that people still have to trust people. As parents and elders of children, they have the right and obligation to teach children to give their seats to the elderly and help grandparents cross the road. It's relaxing, but warm, isn't it? There is a kind of love that keeps children in a box called "love", and there is a kind of love that tells children that there is a world full of love behind the cat's eye. I don't want to say which is better, but I think the bridge built with heart is more cost-effective!
A collection of works by cool authors in late summer.
Times and Jianghu
For many days, in this land washed away by thousands of years of wind and rain, people remembered their ancestors with almost eternal feelings. As soon as the square table was placed, two red candles were lit on it, followed by three stacks of yellow paper, on which six fairy cards were inserted. There are two bowls of rice beside the card, and a small tripod in the middle provides incense. The monk at the table, wearing a paper gold crown and a purple robe, brushed the dust with his left hand and gestured in the air with his right hand from time to time. The scriptures in the mouth have sounds and tones, while the whole body regularly swings to the southeast and northwest with rhyming words. ...
In the mirror of Gaotang, the hair is thin, but the old man in the portrait has gray temples. There are no dignitaries in our Luo family for generations, and even I am the person with the highest diploma in my family. This shows that there is no real money, and there is no cabinet of books handed down from generation to generation. But what the elders left behind was a kindness that was always praised by the neighbors and melted in the blood.
Now, I have no regrets about my uncle's departure. Although I don't have much communication with my great-uncle, at least his old man's teachings and meals are still in my memory. On weekdays, I get along with the elderly. As a junior, the only thing I can do is to let him hold my hand and listen to his stories, which are deeply branded with that era. The only drawback is that there is too little time for company. At the funeral, handing cigarettes and water to the guests, collecting human feelings and going up the mountain to watch the vigil should all be a kind of compensation.
Affection comes from blood, and blood, although seemingly just a red liquid, actually contains too many stories. Most of the memories of the older generation are only told among peers and are unwilling to share with future generations. When two long-separated brothers meet hand in hand and have a simple greeting, I have found tears in grandpa's eyes.
They must have endless topics, but both sides stay in form. After all, sometimes, some things stop at ceremonies because of emotions. After careful observation, I found that a feeling of blood had already passed on those clenched hands, and the previous stories were also engraved on the rough palms, all with silent expressions. This scene is from last year. Now, when my great-grandfather left, I don't need to think much. I can also describe my grandfather's face when he heard the bad news.
Later, I heard from my aunt that after Grandpa learned that his brother had accidentally ended his life, the old man with mobility difficulties sat alone in the corner of the room and kept wiping his tears for hours. Before my aunt's funeral, grandpa gave her usual thrifty salary, and specially told her to throw more money into the carton to the monk when he had something to do.
Also, who would have expected that the greeting we met six months ago turned out to be the last parting message? I met her a long time ago, but since we separated, the time has become longer. After his death, his great-uncle finally left and he finally returned to the land familiar to that generation. Although this is only the death of an ordinary old man, I saw the end of that era from the expressions of his old colleagues at the funeral.
Those who leave will sleep in the ground forever, while those who are still alive can only wander alone in this strange era, in a familiar and strange land, with the stories of that era and forget the people of that era!
Selected works by ... Nice.
Miss the pig-killing dishes in Northeast China for the New Year.
The firecrackers outside the window began to erupt gradually from dribs and drabs, and the shops were crowded with people. The year is approaching, and the taste of the year is getting stronger and stronger. Speaking of Chinese New Year, I can't help feeling nostalgic, because only in my childhood memory is Chinese New Year so desirable.
It goes without saying that the yearning for new clothes in childhood is a dream in every girl's heart, and she is looking forward to it almost every day for 365 days. And I don't want to talk about firecrackers in the New Year, because it is basically a "patent" for boys. Since we don't say "wear" and "play", the rest is "eat". In my childhood memory, the "eating" that impressed me the most during the Chinese New Year was the "killing pig dishes" at the farmhouse.
I lived in the city when I was a child. There are no special procedures during the New Year in China. It's easy to rinse a hot pot and fry a few good dishes. Only when I went to the countryside for a new year, did I really get in touch with the simplicity of the countryside and understand the strong flavor of the countryside. The grand and lively scene will remain in my memory forever.
At that time, rural life in Northeast China was very poor, but every household always kept a big fat pig in captivity and refused to sell it, but left it to the whole family or even the whole village for the New Year.
After the butcher entered the village, unwilling lonely children followed him to the house where he was going to kill pigs, and surrounded the yard to watch the excitement. The screams of the fat pig to be slaughtered attracted the boys to shout excitedly. The timid girls covered their eyes, but they couldn't help peeping out through their fingers. I never dared to look at such a terrible situation, so I trotted all the way to avoid desperate screams.
The scene of killing pigs is really sad and uncomfortable. But I can't refuse the delicious temptation of "killing pig dishes"
The process of making "killing pig dishes" is basically a process of "mobilizing the whole people". Close relatives in the village will come to help, because at noon, everyone will get together and enjoy the delicious "killing pig dishes". Fresh pig blood is poured into the casing, steamed in the pot to make red blood sausage, and all kinds of pigs are washed and cooked. Open the pickle jar, wash and cut the pickled vegetables, and stew them with some delicious things such as blood sausage, tofu and ribs. -This is "killing pig dishes", and then steamed with a large pot of sorghum rice dry rice, and the New Year's Eve dinner is finished. At this time, pots and pans in the neighborhood will come in handy, and relatives' uncles, aunts, sisters and sisters are all busy sweating.
Boil, fry, fry, and make the spacious kang warm. At this time, Grandpa, Uncle, Uncle and Big Brother began to take off their shoes and get on the kang, picked up a small handleless wine cup, sipped warm "tempting bread", sipped pig goods, gulped down "killing pig dishes" and savored the taste of "Nian" to their heart's content.
Eating "killing pig dishes" fully embodies the "collectivism" spirit of the northeast people. No family can enjoy "killing pig dishes" exclusively, which will definitely attract the contempt of the whole village. In a smaller village, if someone wants to kill pigs and cook "pig-killing dishes", it must be invited by every household, while in a larger village, all their close relatives should be invited to participate. At the same time, eating vegetables in a big bowl, eating meat in large chunks and drinking heavily also reflects the roughness and heroism of the northeast man living between Baishan and Heishui.
Whenever eating "killing pig dishes", adult men sit cross-legged on the scorching kang, drinking and chatting and eating vegetables with a red face; Older women are busy in the kitchen; Younger girls shuttle back and forth between the kitchen and the edge of the kang, serving tea and water, and taking food and vegetables; The children served a bowl of "killing pig dishes" and squatted in the yard with a bowl of sorghum rice.
The hustle and bustle of preparing "killing pig dishes", the noise of eating "killing pig dishes" and the rich and attractive meat flavor of "killing pig dishes" have been deeply engraved in my memory. Every New Year, I always think of the "killing pig dishes" in my hometown in Northeast China.
The art of speaking
Watching TV that day seemed to be a health care program, saying that the host went to Wudang Mountain to visit Taoist priests. Because there are ten doctors and nine doctors, I went to see how Wudang Taoist priests keep in good health. They seem to have found a Taoist named Jia, so they followed him out to find Polygonatum, a talented Chinese herbal medicine. Then the host asked him by the way, "How old are you this year?" The Taoist replied, "Hehe, I am still a child." The host let out a cry when he saw that the Taoist priest didn't give a positive answer and said he was a child. It is estimated that he was wondering whether the Taoist priest kept a secret and gave a Zen answer. Well, it should be reasonable.
Seeing this, the child thought of a sentence: the art of speaking. It seems that I have written similar articles before. Speaking is an art, and it is not easy to say good words, beautiful words, humorous words, comforting words and encouraging words. Take the host's question just now, this boy thinks it's too interesting. In other words, as a TV host, the language control ability should be good, maybe it is a slip of the tongue. But even a slip of the tongue, experienced TV people should be able to improvise, hehe.
How can I put it? Let's look back again. The question mark of the host itself is very problematic. Taoist priests are old and not ordinary people. Taoist Wudang, can we ordinary people compare with him? He just asked how old you are. We know that asking "how old are you" is the way for elders to ask their younger generation. How can a teenager like you ask how old you are?
So Taoist priests are not ordinary people. He won't get angry, so he said half jokingly, "I'm still a child", which means your question is wrong. Then, actually, this is a detail, and the problem itself is not very difficult. If the host thinks carefully, he may know that there is something wrong with his question. He should ask, "Taoist, how old are you this year?"
I want to ask this question, maybe the Taoist priest will tell himself how old he is this year. So, look at your brain before you speak. A wise man will always let his brain walk in front of his tongue. Let me give you another example. Taoist Wudang is a little far away from us, so let's say he is around. For example, a child at home is sick and has a cold, and then parents may say, "A cold is a good thing, and feeling it once a year will enhance physical fitness." Well, this sentence can actually be considered. What do you mean, once a year? Is it necessary to let children suffer once a year?
So if this sentence says, "It's good to catch a cold once in a while and strengthen your physique", if you think it's comfort, the effect will be very different. So we don't pay enough attention to our words and deeds in life, really. Come to think of it, it's all bad.
For example, when serving, the placement of this dish on the dining table is actually exquisite, because each dish has its own characteristics, and people with traditional connotations know how to place this dish according to Yin-Yang and Five Elements. We still know the seats, such as the guests sitting in the car, but we don't know enough about this dish. Of course, life is not perfect. Even so, the key is that we are good at pursuing perfection. Therefore, always observing what you think, say and do will definitely make yourself and the people around you live better and happier.
Half moon night in mountain village
At night, a ray of light shines quietly on the old drawer table through the window.
I went to the window curiously and opened the half-closed curtain. A crescent moon hangs on the upper end of the windowsill. She is smart, quiet and dazzling. Oh, I forgot the year, month and day! Is the leisure at home for a few days making me forget that life is moving forward, or is the leisure in my hometown eliminating the complicated impression? Maybe.
Sitting gently on a wooden bed that has been away for many years, and leaning slightly sideways, you will hear a creaking sound, which is so far away and familiar. The small tea lamp by the bedside is still there, but it has been useless for many years. It silently resembles an immortal Buddha statue. It witnessed that before going to bed, the mother stayed up all night for the sick child, mending the quilt and carrying feces. Witness the whispers in my dreams. My body is covered with cotton spinning prepared by my mother, and my heart is warm. There is often a breeze blowing in the summer night in my hometown, which is even chilly. My mother cooked a bowl of sugar ginger and tried to drink it before lying down. I had a cold and fever when I was a child. This is how my mother takes care of it. Now my mother is full of white hair, full of vicissitudes, hunched back and often dizzy. Watching her drag her sick bones out of the door, her pace was so slow and her body was so thin. The black homespun dress that I wore many years ago has gone out of shape, and my mother is still reluctant to change it. Mother is old. Thinking of my negligence over the years, I felt guilty and couldn't help crying. Mom, she still treats me like a child. With the cotton pillow she made me ten years ago, I used to sleep soundly, but I can't sleep tonight.
Night, quiet. My thoughts went back to my childhood and those crazy and uncontrollable days that followed my mother. Back to the disappointment of the lush years. Night, very quiet. Only dreams and thoughts are walking.
I am carefree, walking alone on a country road with a small schoolbag on my back, pulling the green bristlegrass swaying gently by the roadside and rolling it into a toy, complacent. In summer, the corn cob in the field is always delicious food. It is the happiest thing to break a few sticks with friends and get together to make a fire to roast corn cob. I always feel that I am flying and running in the wild all day, until the sun sets and the moon rises, and my mother's cry still echoes in my ears, but naive teenagers regard it as the wind. That path full of vicissitudes of life, loneliness is accompanied by growth.
Until one day, the girl in my class left me, and my mother put down her work and pulled me back from their home, which taught me a good lesson. I asked my teacher at school, and when I watched my mother sweat so hard for me, I finally softened and cried. I remember that lonely love for many years; How many confessions turned into sleepless nights.
Suddenly I heard the baby crying, crying louder and louder, hysterically piercing the night sky in the mountain village, and then came the baby mother's low ballad. Whose child is repeating my yesterday again, torturing my mother who worked hard for her life during the day! He beat my heart, and he overwhelmed the backs of many parents and mothers.
In that era full of hunger and bitterness, my mother shouldered the burden of the whole family, earned work points in the production team during the day, came back with a wet firewood on her back, bent down and held her one-year-old sister to her chest. At that time, I earned more work points than labor. When I started, my mother untied my sister from her arms and put her in a cool place under the ridge. The captain said it was inconvenient for my mother to take care of the children at work. In order to divide the work fairly on the spot, my mother left alone after others finished the task. Even so, the production captain gave less work points than others, and my mother never complained to anyone in front of us. As we are too young to cook, my mother will cook for us when she comes back. Boiled is a thin pot of yellow corn paste porridge, which is mixed with a handful of Artemisia annua and some raw salt as big as corn kernels. This is our family dinner. When the meal was not full, the production captain called again to live. I went to the village head at dawn in those days, expecting my mother to come back from work, but she didn't come back until late. Mom will be busy feeding pigs and sewing when she comes back to cook dinner for us. Don't rest until eleven or twelve in the evening. If you don't eat well, you don't have enough to eat. That's how my mother survived twenty years.
Finally, on that day of that year, I effectively carried my bags, shouldered my responsibilities, and embarked on the road to a distant place. My mother's expectant eyes have always been with me. I stumbled all the way, but I could never cross my mother's river. How much bitterness she washed away and how much effort she put into me. That I have always resented my negligence.
The desktop of that drawer gradually lost its outline. I groped in the dark and suddenly felt how cruel time was. It took away my mother's good years and urged us to grow up, regardless of hardships. The meat cleaver of life has carved countless scars on my mother's face and in my heart. The imprint of these years makes people feel desolate and lonely. And I also unconsciously passed through youth.
Unable to bear the torment of this long night, I got up and went to the balcony in front of the door to lean on it. The curved moon is still going west through the clouds, and the clouds in my hometown are white. It was wrapped in the bright moonlight, and the afterglow still fell on the fields in the mountains. Looking around, the outline of the mountain standing in the distance is so majestic in the hazy night. The hills on the flat ground are dotted with purple ink in the picture, embedded in a gray field, and there is another village on one side of the field. At this time, the lights are faintly visible, which is somewhat lonely and suspicious against the backdrop of the night! In fact, the night in my hometown is very beautiful. The scenery in my hometown is very beautiful.
If my mother is not sick this time, how long will it take me to come back to see her?
The bamboo forest near the small building rustled.
In the evening, the mountain wind began.