Alas, in a blink of an eye, it was the first ten.
At the end of the year, in the evening, a group of small people in the village asked me to have a small gathering, and when I arrived at the scene, I saw that there were still a few people I didn't know, politely toasted cigarettes, said a few words of greeting, drank three rounds, and cooked five flavors. In order not to sweep everyone's excitement. Forced to smile, I really can't hold on. So he found an excuse to leave, more and more dislike this occasion, do not want to force a smile, do not want to walk back alone, see the dim street lights on the side of the road. I really remember when I was a child.
When I was a child, I was obsessed with the year, and I entered the waxing moon. Every day, I pulled my fingers and counted them over and over again. What day is the New Year, and when can I wear new clothes? When can I receive the money?
Every year on the twenty-third day of the lunar month, the slaughter of pigs begins. The New Year's atmosphere is so strong, at night we little farts. Standing in front of the pig killing platform, watching the pigs struggle, bleed, and look forward to eating blood tofu. The horn on the pole, the light bulb on the pole, and the swing on the square.
In my mind, they all represent the arrival of the New Year.
Because usually, there are not so many people. Supplies are not so abundant. New things are rarely seen.
At the end of the year, everything good came out.
After dinner, half a year old and not a small child. They all sneaked two pants pockets full of cannonballs. Taking advantage of the fact that his parents were not paying attention, he secretly took an incense stick, packed a box of matches and sneaked out, gathering together from the beginning of the village to the end of the village, from the east to the west. Compare each other with who is brave and whose gun battles are like grenades.
The louder the movement, the more it scares someone and the whole audience laughs.
Just plug your ears and you're a coward.
To this day, I remember that there was a kind of firecracker. The explosives inside were yellow and the firecrackers were thin and short. See who is brave enough to hold it in their hands, and the cannon battle is not thrown out.
No matter how heroic and good people are outside, when you go home, you will always be beaten up. Everyone is no exception.
In addition to playing, the happiest thing is to put on new clothes. At that time, wearing new clothes for the New Year was definitely the most representative ceremony, parents would take advantage of the last set of years ago to buy new clothes for their children, we always secretly put new clothes at home and try to wear them over and over again, no matter how many times we took them off, it always felt like the morning of the New Year. Wearing new clothes eventually becomes a ritual, or a mission.
When it was really the first day of the Chinese New Year, going door to door to prostrate to the New Year, it was for that dollar. When the head is finished, the new clothes become full of dirt. After returning home, my mother complained.
At that time, don't talk about mobile phones, even TVs are not common, the only thing you can see is a 14-inch 12-inch black-and-white TV, and it snows outside in winter. Tv screens are also fluttering with snowflakes, sometimes the TV station flashes up and down, adults slap the TV twice, as if frightened, the moment returns to normal, childhood happiness is a very simple thing, a piece of clothing a bunch of cannonballs, a group of partners is the happiest.
When I grew up, I went to the city to see more wine and green life at night. There is no return of that carefree cheerfulness.
Friends are bustling, crowds come and go, new year big bags. On the table are the taste of the mountains and the sea. Can't eat it again, the taste of pork that year,
The streets are brightly lit, the children each hold their own mobile phones in their hands, laughing at the video, the adults pushing cups and changing cups, blowing their own disbelief, while I took to the street alone, looking at the street lamps that have been replaced by solar energy.
In addition to lamenting that I am old, I recall the simple joy of my childhood. Suddenly, I felt that something should indeed be commemorated, and when I grew up, I felt that simplicity was a happy thing, and it took an hour to stop and go for a few minutes.
Write the above words, nostalgia for a post-80s person, memory will eventually be drowned in the rolling wheel of history, turned into dust, turned into green smoke.
