Two branches of Pine hair for Chinese New Year by Shi Weizhou
You’ve lived for more than fifty years, and you can’t remember if it ever snowed before.Snowy years are certainly different from non-snowy years, and snowy years are safer and more fun than sunny ones.Snow, not only is the forest guards happy things, but also like to make snowmen snowball fights happy things.Children don’t mind the cold, their shoes wet, their hands red, they think they are brave.There are not many snowy days in winter these years, so many people like the snow scene.Farmers look forward to a “good snow promises a good harvest”.The skiers didn’t think it was snowing enough to catch up with the northeast.People who take photos of trembling sound are more happy to have information available again, dreaming of more fans.People who like photography clap here, there, try to frame a good scene.People who don’t like outdoor activities stay by the fire with their eyes glued to the TV waiting for the Spring Festival Gala performance.Some people play cards, mahjong, win laugh, lose such as soul off.Each has his own playplace, each has his own way of life, happy to pass the time.You read “One Hundred Years of Solitude” in your busy hours around the fire, laughing at Marquez’s humor from time to time. People thought you were crazy, but you knew you weren’t.On New Year’s Eve, the village is white, the earth is white, and the distant mountains are white.Every family is shivering with Spring Festival couplets, like a thief, but the heart warm.Although you fried chicken by hot vegetables fried to the point, immediately from a big bubble, you hurriedly in the point on the black ointment anti-inflammatory, become “devil” people hate, you don’t care, the small stove on the casserole chicken cooing cooing, emitting a thick fragrance, you think this is life.You fry the dishes that are served on the floor of the room, strewn with pine hairs, and they start to get cold, and you’re still cooking, and you’re not taking a breath until you fry eighteen dishes.Sieve so big a circle of firecrackers has been very like to set off firecrackers of the children opened in front of the door, you have experienced the present firecracker letter is very anxious, point fire MAO MAO breath fried, unlike your childhood that, in the house a hand with a hand ignition, after you can also from the house to the outside also put not over.The ancestors on the offering table wait to offer incense, wine, tea and rice.You have some satisfaction in these rural ways, at least on the margins of childhood.You send children morning and evening to the door god, three generations of gongzu incense.”How many sticks of incense?””Five, three on the altar, one on each side of the door.”You think that your family has not raised pigs for many years, so there is no need to worship incense at the door of the circle. You also think that there is no big pot and stove at home, so there is no need to worship the god of kitchen incense.Remember when you were a child, the big wooden cabinet containing grain should be pasted with red paper with the words “Bumper harvest”, and the pens of livestock should be pasted with the words “Prosperity of six livestock” on the posts or doors of the pens.No more of that now.You feel that your complicated life is somewhat simplified. You are relaxed, lighting a cigarette and puffing away from the corner of the wall with the water pipe that you have made for the New Year.You’re a restless person, and you might visit the homes of people you find humane, talk about “like-minded” topics, and ask about the oldest stories in your village.You don’t talk about literature and art to someone who handles a hoe every day. You know it’s not right to say such things. People wonder if you’re crazy, or your cerebellum is atrophy, or think you’re talking in your sleep.You don’t want to walk around the village in fancy clothes, because everyone in your village knows your family’s history.You’re in the middle of the village. You keep a low profile.You are always looking for interesting things in the village, including unfinished walls or trees that have been dead for years.You are still standing at the back of the village, counting the trees in the ancestral tombs: a red pine, four Chinese pine, two chestnut trees, a pair of hawthorn trees.You also know that hawthorn trees are called “mountain fruit trees” in their hometown.In the bleak and cold countryside, most of the people who come back for the Spring Festival and those who stay at home have nothing to do but warm themselves around the stove, eat candy, brush their mobile phones, and talk about what they have seen, heard, felt and thought.You say everything you should or shouldn’t say once or three or five times because of the power of the drink.Women who thought their dancing was ok gathered in the village square and danced irregularly.Don’t want to drag three horses and play small mahjong half – old man to the village to walk and stand.Cleaners with a long bamboo broom to clean the “full hall” firecracker paper, because of the snow water and people poured wash their faces and feet water soaked in paper, cleaners laboriously clean, no complaints.Groups of people made their way to the small temple at the back of the village, where mountains and rivers were beautiful and cigarettes were wreathed, along the way superstitious people carrying incense paper prepared to kowtow to the temple.A little boy in the second grade in the city was pulled by his grandfather, see on the road there is an empty cigarette box he fell off his grandfather’s hand ran over to pick up the cigarette box to the roadside bushes, aunt 嬢嬢 uncle brothers also praised.This is the function of education, is patriotic health out of the useful talent, people look from the pony to kick the claw.The snow began to melt high up in the mountains.You go to the village after the ditch walk, see small fold water stone rock water is big or not.You want to look for the lair you used to play in when you were a child in the ravine with your friends when you were carrying wood and looking for pig vegetables, you want to look for the path you have walked so many times is not the same.You see white and black vines on hillsides like mine lines on the battlefield, you dare not touch.You hear the sound of the stream and you look carefully for a small bowl of thick.The clatter of water you listen to more than last night’s gala.There was still snow under the trees, and when you crossed a steep slope, there were no branches to pull, so you picked your hands in the dirt and climbed carefully over it. You weren’t afraid of heights because the slope was so steep.After crawling to the flat, you find a piece of moss and brush your hands. It is cleaner than a towel.There is a path in your mind. After walking for a while, you find that it is blocked by branches, but you can’t stop your confidence to go forward and find your childhood.When you come to the top of the mountain where the sun shines, some unknown bird says, “You are a ghost, you are a ghost.” You think, “How can I be a ghost?I am the real mountain people is the local aborigine, the certificate is county public security bureau hair, open what joke?”The wood-pigeons pattered from wood to wood, saying nothing.You think the turtledove is the cousin of the pigeon. You think it is a beneficial bird, but it is a bit silly.You have been walking on the mountain for an hour, and you are still a little out of breath as you climb, for you are already a little fat and put on weight, and it is impossible not to be out of breath in winter.It’s sunny and you can see the whole village clearly, and you want to try your photography skills with your phone.You pack cigarettes, although the mountains are wet everywhere, you dare not smoke, the New Year is still the forest fire martial law.You smoke. How can you educate people without setting an example?You watch people go to the mountain to break a pine to bring home, you also break two, pin one on the rear of the car, stick one in the front of the car.