Memory of the Spring Festival

This busy year has passed. Before the holiday, I always feel that the time has passed very slowly. It is really a holiday and time flies. In a blink of an eye, I have to start working again.

Sometimes I feel really tired. I really don't know how many hardships and difficulties people have to experience in this life, so that everything is fine. Sometimes I am very unhappy, for many reasons, from many aspects of life, so I especially yearn for that kind of pastoral life, picturesque. The bird sings in the forest, and the sunset glows in the evening. I am eager to listen to the hustle and bustle of the grass, and the deaf children who like to return late play the leisurely flute on the back of the cow. There are also the wild ducks in the reeds of the riverside, and the unknown birds sing on the willow branches. This reminds me of my hometown.

I remember when I was a child, I often went to the creek behind the river bank to catch fish. It was always after the rain or when I skipped classes. Often it will make muddy water, because I am afraid of the mother's punishment, and it is not until the darkness of the mother to go home in the anxious call of the mother. In that warm farmhouse, the mother always puts an apron in her waist and puts her hand on her lips, calling out my nickname loudly, until I see me, and the face of a sorrowful moment turns into a loving smile. Holding my dirty hand, my mouth is gently falling, but my eyes are full of love. I can say that I am the happiest at that time.

Because of the unique geographical location, it is always convenient for villagers to eat fish. Mothers often tell their father when they are going to eat. "Hey, there is no food at home." The father will pick up the net of fish without a ring and lead me and my sister to the river just 20 or 30 meters away from home. The stretch of Mongolian mountains stands on the deep blue waters, and at the foot of the mountains is a dense forest. In the shade of green trees, the river is clear and south. A small leafy boat swayed on the lake and stunned the flock of waterfowl. Because it was during the hot summer season, the water temperature was high, and the fish were squadrons sticking their mouths on the water, swimming cheerfully, and the father was at this moment, slamming the time, shaking off the round big net and accurate cover. Going up, then slowly and steadily dragging ashore, all the fish are jumping wildly and rolling over the soil. I rushed to the bucket with my sister, and went all the way to go home with my father. At this time, the mother will set up a small iron pot in the yard early. The pot is supported by a ring-shaped three-legged iron frame. The iron frame is placed on the wooden board. The pot is filled with oil and then placed in the garden. Pick a few shallots and parsley, cook the pot and add water to clean up the fish, then go down to the pot, then simmer a bowl of special farmhouse sauce to cover the pot and fill the stove. Only a moment later, the thick fishy fragrance filled the entire farmhouse. Set the table and bench, the family sits around the table, small rice, river fish sauce, shallot parsley. Far away, the scent will go away, and the moment of time will make me forget forever, so warm, so careless.

Today, I am far away from my hometown, and I am turned into a middle-aged person by a child who is not worthy of the world. Being a wife, being a mother, shouldering too many responsibilities and obligations. I also cried and laughed. When all the loss and happiness become less important, everything is light. What life left for me is to remember the mistakes that have been made and let go of things that are too far away from you. The life in the city is busy and busy. I will still be busy sneaking. In addition to the intense work, I will hold a cup of tea and stand by the window, looking out into the distance. In the northeastern part of the sea, in the distant sea level, in the small mountain village surrounded by the mountains, there is my healthy father of the year, the black-skinned but healthy brothers and sisters, and have passed away. Kind mother.

This year's Spring Festival, hastily passed, and the days of leaving home are close.