This afternoon, after lunch, I went to the mountains with my husband and mother-in-law, as well as my daughter, to collect firewood.
We borrowed his electric three-wheeler from the fourth father and rode it in the direction of the mountain, and in order to save some electricity for the electric car, I rode a motorcycle with my mother-in-law.
After 5 minutes of riding, we came to a forest with dead leaves and dead branches on the ground, and some small trees that had dried up and fallen on the ground.
The mother-in-law said that because of the drought of the previous year, many small trees died, just picked up to make firewood, dry and flammable, and did not need to be dried.
We took gloves and some ropes for bales of firewood, found a clearing, spread the ropes on the ground, and then put the dead little trees on their feet, broke the branches with our hands, and put them on the ropes.
The first time I picked firewood, I had no experience, I directly put one by one big trees on the bundle rope, and finally my bundle of firewood, fluffy and tall, not easy to tie, looks a lot, but it is not very heavy.
My husband bundled firewood, he broke the branches from the middle, a neat bundle, easy to hold, and solid.
Then, I suddenly wanted to, and I lamented my cleverness to bring a whole pack of tissues before I left.
I took a few steps deeper, walked to a depression, pulled out a piece of shit, I moved two steps so as not to step on my own shit, wiped my ass, and when I was about to put on my pants, I felt another wave of shit, and pulled out another piece of shit.
I moved two more steps so as not to step on my own shit, wiped my ass again, and felt the shit again.
And so on, and finally I pulled out four pieces of shit, and the paper that wiped my ass formed a circle on the ground in the woods.
My husband was still collecting firewood at a distance from me, he was nearsighted, today was cloudy, the light was not good, he asked, what are you doing?
I'm back, I'm, what else can I do?
He asked, how come there's a wreath there? You don't find on someone else's grave, do you?
I said, it's not a wreath, it's the paper I wipe my ass.
He said, how come there are so many pieces of paper to wipe your ass? Did you step on your shoes?
I said, no, I pulled four pieces of, changed places every time I pulled, and it ended up like that.
Finally, I finished pulling the and their firewood was tied. They put firewood on the cart and asked me to ride the tricycle over.
I couldn't control it for a moment and almost threw the tricycle into the ditch.
I was so frightened that I broke into a cold sweat, instantly woke up, and then rode with full concentration, no longer daring to giggle and joke.
My firewood was the fluffiest and hardest to put away, and it should have been on top, but my mother-in-law put it at the bottom.
Finally put all 8 bundles of firewood on the car, and we went home.
