Li Zongsheng's affectionate interpretation of "The Price of Love", this song always makes people feel a lot at the end of the year: "Do you still remember the dream when you were young, like a flower that never withers." "Those beautifully bound wall calendars are the flowers that do not wither at the end of the year, and they have become souvenirs in the depths of everyone's memory. They are round shafts wrapped in brown paper or newspaper, and they emit a faint scent of ink. Hidden in it are the scenery that we have never seen when we were young, or the flowers and birds and ladies who are meticulously crafted, or the "calendar" of the collection treasures of old Shanghai.
Through time and space, the wall calendar is a good New Year's gift for family and friends. At that time, my mother also liked to follow the auspicious days of the zodiac, the yellow calendar, the auspicious time, the imperial calendar, and the day to choose what to do today, and the used calendars were used by my mother to wrap books, or cut and paste greeting cards, and even became my "scratch paper"...
Now, the moment I turn the page glooms me, because there are only a few thin pages left in the calendar, and the past quietly spreads in the moonlight that is as cool as water at night. Looking back at those dusty emotions affectionately, gently twisting the keyhole of memory. When I was a child, I liked the wall calendar, I didn't buy a mobile phone to check the date, I liked the feeling of tearing the calendar by hand, tearing off a page, and a month seemed to disappear in my heart. Tear up a wall calendar, and a year will be gone.
In the past, when I was still a child, I was most looking forward to the end of the wall calendar, the Spring Festival came as scheduled, there were new clothes to wear, red envelopes to take, all kinds of delicacies from the mountains and seas that I rarely eat, and ardent wishes for the New Year... Happy New Year, small heart, buried in the hope of growing up quickly. It's like now, in the face of the distant days, I can only sigh that time has passed. I used to think about the future in front of the calendar, but now, the pictures of my dreams when I was young have come true, but I can't remember the life I wanted at the beginning.
My mother used to put a discarded wall calendar paper on the wall to decorate the dark and mottled room of the ancestral house. It was also carefully cut by her one by one and made into a smooth ledger... Later, when the standard of living improved, the old wall calendar was no longer useful, but my mother and I still had a deep affection for the wall calendar. What we are obsessed with is no longer the pattern of the calendar, but the text under the picture, Tang poems, Song words, health knowledge, life hacks, or recipes... Every day, I tear and look at it, and those bits and pieces of knowledge also cultivate sentiment intentionally or unintentionally.
My deepest love with the wall calendar lies in the Tang and Song poetry calendars. Because the moment I got it, I secretly vowed to memorize one song a day with the wall calendar, and it seems that I have accumulated 300 songs in a year. And the relationship between my mother and the wall calendar is to make food for me according to the recipes on the wall calendar. That year, I was wading through the "dark river" of my senior year of high school, and the recipes were on the calendar.
The years are always in a hurry, and last year's wall calendar has drifted away like a fluttering acacia leaf. I want to have time every month to travel, make good memories, and record every happy day. We are admiring the withering of the fallen flowers in winter, and we have already smelled the breath of spring. 365 days a year, he was torn apart by his hands. Tearing and tearing, but tearing out the inner attachment. The inflection point of time allows people to retrace the distance of the Spring Festival. The wall calendar allows us to slow down the pace of life in our busy life and find the most simple and pure happiness in the past.
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