February 2nd Prose 1 When I was a child, in 2008, it started from Laba and lasted until February 2nd. After the fifteenth day of the first month, the dolls are looking forward to reading books and counting the days with their fingers.
As the end of the year, February 2nd is as important as Chinese New Year in the eyes of adult dolls. I have to get up early today. If I get up late, I will be laughed at by adults, and my face will become annoying freckles in the future. Everyone has a love of beauty. For the sake of beauty, the dolls get up earlier than any other day. In fact, as we all know, the dragon is just a legend. It is the belief and totem of our nation. On February 2, after the shock, everything revived, and the legendary dragon woke up on this day, bringing hope and beauty to people. A year's plan starts with spring. The so-called dragon Baba is just a white lie told by adults. The purpose is to let the doll form good habits from childhood, cherish time and cherish the present. The water on this day is called holy water, which can cure all diseases. People take a bath and have their hair cut, make tea and cook, so they are grateful. For children, all this is not important, what matters is the festival. What is a holiday? The children will say in unison: there is delicious food!
In those years when materials were scarce, festivals were very attractive to children. Before February 2nd, the children put "On February 2nd, the dragon looked up and every household fried peas. Kill the rooster, eat meat noodles, carry a cage and go door to door. On this day, my aunt came to see her grandson with a delivery cage. There are crispy checkerboard beans, sweet popcorn, crispy peas, green beans and corn beans under the cage cover. On this day, menstruation's delivery cage is a weapon for children to show off. You eat my chess beans and I taste your popcorn, so there is a ballad of "going door to door with a cage".
On February 2nd, the biggest temptation for children is popcorn. There is a saying in my hometown that "food is the sky". For urchins, the greatest pleasure is to grab food. The temptation of one person's mouth and ten people's teeth is the greatest charm of eating and grabbing food. Perhaps, only popcorn in the streets and lanes on February 2 can satisfy children's childlike interests and desires.
At the end of each year, this activity of being a soldier by the whole people begins in every household. Smoke curled up over the town, housewives showed their magical powers and were busy turning over chess beans. Popcorn was the patent of Boy Scouts. The sound of banging in the street is constant. It sounds like a cannon set off by Lei Zi in the New Year, full of passion and temptation. Anyone who hears it will be moved by it. Throughout the town, the air is filled with attractive fragrance, which can be smelled through several alleys. The smell instantly drowned saliva, making people drool. The adult urchin stopped to listen, argued the direction and hurried home. Because of the festival, adults have become generous. I took the money from the adults, scooped a few handfuls of corn from the granary, took the snakeskin bag and rushed behind the sound, swallowing saliva all the way. Far away, I saw a long queue, like a defeated soldier, standing behind the queue in frustration, muttering in a low voice, stretching his neck and looking around.
Looking at the long queue, the happiest person is the popcorn master. There was a popcorn machine as black as a cannon on the fire, and a big face under the motorcycle cap was as smoky as Bao Gong who sang a big drama. He stared blankly at the stove and timetable. Next to the master, whose turn it is, play the bellows. In full view, the broken man who plays the bellows is like a general who returns home in triumph. The master shook the popcorn machine and added carbon with small carbon. Everyone's focus is on the master. If you see the master of popcorn stand up, the team will be agitated, timidly cover their ears and retreat, and boldly cover their ears and rush forward. With a loud noise, a cloud of white smoke rose, and the hot and delicious popcorn was like a river that burst its banks. The tempting aroma made the saliva gush out. There are always restless cornflowers jumping out of the interface between the popcorn machine and the sack, flying like scattered flowers. Visually observing the direction of popcorn falling, a group of urchins cheered and chased it out, grabbed it into their mouths, smacked their mouths on purpose, smiled cunningly, and their eyes were mixed with pride, disdain and provocation. Those who didn't grab it went back regretfully, for fear that someone would join the team while they were away. If you happen to meet an acquaintance, wink and jump a few steps with a snakeskin bag.
Hey! Hey! Hey! Oh, who's going backwards? Step back. Come late and get the bowl early. You think you are the second father of the emperor? ! Those people in the back came to attack. Thin-skinned, unable to stand criticism from others, he returned to his original position with a red face and a snakeskin bag on his back. If you are thick-skinned, you will be deaf and dumb, with your hands akimbo, and your eyes will show a cold posture that a dead mouse can't touch. If both sides do not save trouble, a war of words will be followed by hand-to-hand combat. Ladra advised her that the noisy scene seemed to be in Huaguo Mountain. Only the master can control the scene, and a roar is as powerful as the Great Sage. The Mao Mao soldiers immediately dispersed and returned to their positions, guarding pots and pans full of corn like guard positions.
Time flies in the explosion, and night comes quietly in the looting. The host lit the lantern, and the fire was brighter at night. The night is getting deeper and deeper. Every ten minutes, there will be a loud noise over the town, but under the loud noise, there is no looting team.
It's February 2 nd again. With the improvement of material life, the delivery cage in menstruation has become a thing of the past. On February 2nd every year, all major supermarkets have holiday counters, and all kinds of snacks are dazzling. People can choose chess pieces, peas and green beans with different tastes. With the modernization of agriculture, there is no wheat straw collection in front of and behind every house, and there is no smoke over the town. Even the folk songs on February 2 are lonely. Only the spinning machine that time turns sings old songs in the rings of the years, but it will never see the spectacular scene of that year-long queues and cheerful looting troops. ...
On February 2 nd, the prose faded out of people's field of vision in the winter. Although it is still chilly in spring, after all, it is near early spring and everything begins to recover.
February in early spring is a season destined to breed vitality, which is not as refreshing as March when the grass grows and the warbler flies; Not as charming as April, when you were dancing; But she is as gentle as you! There is no elegant side, such as a cup of tea, elegant and unforgettable.
Is it providence to meet you? We can't help each other once In this reality full of riddles and riddles, that unexpected emotion sometimes feels like a dream. Like a swallow in spring, it cuts through the water and jumps lightly over the heart lake. At the moment when the tail is crossed, the sparkling waves begin to ripple in the heart lake.
I don't believe in Buddhism, but the Buddha still gave us the opportunity to meet his broad mind. This may be the fate of you and me in previous lives! In the vast sea of people, even if you look back thousands of times, you just rush by without stopping. I happened to meet you in February this early spring, and I had to re-examine myself with gratitude.
As a song goes: Meeting you is my fate! Some encounters are not perfect, but since there is an opportunity to meet, we should know each other and cherish each other.
Remember the night we went to Binjiang? I followed some of your past events to get to know you, a woman with gentle appearance but full of vicissitudes in her heart. The tears you suddenly shed by the river wet the night and my heart.
A close friend once said to me: love is bitter and tired! But I am not afraid, true love must stand the test of time.
This early spring and February is pregnant with new vitality and true love. May we go hand in hand forever!
February 2nd Essay The last week of March and February, no, it should be the last day of February, no, it should be the last fourteen hours of February. It's still wrong, because when I thought there were 14 hours left, time had slipped away quietly, and I don't know how many seconds and minutes were missing. A few minutes have passed, how do I know how many minutes and seconds I have left? Time is really inconsiderate and I don't know how to be kind. Forget it, forget it. Always lose when you care about coming and going.
I will be a complete failure, and the struggle is futile. Time is like water, and I can't help it. Looking up is in the sky; It has a low eyebrow and puts on colorful clothes for the earth. At first glance, I added silver thread to my temples and wrinkled my forehead. How dare I stare? It blossomed 3,000 peach blossoms, it blossomed countless weak willows, it blossomed countless pear blossoms like snow, but it forbade me to be young and heartless.
Love becomes thin in the depths, perhaps, but I have lost it. Time flies, and I won't give up. Walking specious, I don't know where to go, I don't know where my heart is. Although the autumn moon and the spring breeze are not idle, they are always used to it. In the end, they haven't realized a few truths, and they are still so stupid, so ignorant and so confused. I can't help asking: when will it suddenly become clear?
The sky outside the window is still a little thin gray, a layer of clouds is scattered lightly, and the sun shines down, soft and lazy. I couldn't help walking to the window and touching its slightly soft and lovely face. At the tentacle, there seems to be nothing but palm prints, and I don't know what kind of waves to describe it. Some people say that the texture in the palm of your hand is a portrayal of your life's fate, but I don't see any Gan Kun. The other hand brushed past, and a rough touch reached the bottom of my heart through my fingertips, which made me a little moved. The traces of life will never fade, the road we have traveled is engraved in those palm prints, and time is always here.
In the distance, the lush green and blue are mixed with a touch of light yellow, which is full of spring. A love that consumes everything is brilliant, and the spring breeze suddenly becomes gentle. Sure enough, the scenery in Jiangnan is good. Looking back, flowers are everywhere, and the spring is full. The words on the paper have lost the sonority of the past and become more gentle. I copied a little spring scenery, but the spring application is still outside the plain paper, and a thousand words are not worth a flood of spring water.
The sun sneaked over the windowsill and lay lazily on the ground, looking extremely docile. If you can meet such sunshine every day, your heart will be soft. At least, the darkness hidden in the corner can be illuminated with a little sunshine. After these years, there will be a sunny day. Nai, this sunshine is also day by day, and it often rains, even my heart is wet. Being in Jiangnan, I have long been used to such humidity, but I don't mind it very much.
My eyes swept through the calendar, and I saw the 28th from 1. The moisture in the past was fierce. Also put on some clothes, there is sunshine, and I don't feel cold. The cold that came out in those days may have dissipated in this ray of sunshine. As soon as the spring breeze is hot, it gives birth to a trace of warmth and adds a little coolness.
The ancients said: Spring outing, apricot flowers blowing all over the head. Such a good season, such a good spring, really should not be wasted. It is better to be free and easy, bid farewell to the cold and gloom in February and return to the refreshing March. I don't need to spend a lot of pen and ink, but my poem started from the branches and composed a piece of apricot blossom and sky shadow.
The weather on February 2 is still cold, and the smell of spring is still lingering in the smoke of fireworks. Only the dead branches of willow clearly hung with dark red firecrackers, proudly showing everyone passing by that it once belonged to the glory of that era. Of course, the same dark red will also be scattered on this awake street.
Stepping on the wet and cold air, mixed with the smell of gunpowder, the cold temperature repeatedly stimulated passers-by, raised his collar, and hid his eyes behind the glistening fog. This city, I don't know when it started, turned into such a fog and gray. Cars sped by and rolled up a curly dead leaf on the side of the road. Looking up, I looked at the nearest tree. The trunk twisted into the sky, and the leaves could no longer cover it. The shape of the tree is clear in people's eyes, and I vaguely remember its green eyes when it was pink, under the sky at that time.
In the distance, rows of square buildings are densely gathered together. In the season when there is no shelter, I am more and more restless. Windows, large and small, are open or covered, and they are everyone's homes. During the day, I still don't think that at night, red or white lights have already replaced the stars and the moon, becoming an indispensable chain in the dark, tightly and ruthlessly locking people or things who are willing or unwilling to go back together.
Suddenly I miss my childhood, the same roadside, the same distance, the tall phoenix tree on the roadside, the foggy old house in the distance, and the lamp behind the window, but with a warm definition. At that time, the sky was quiet with a little sadness, as if I saw the moonlight in the same place several years later. Just like facing the same person, I can't read his mind anymore.
My old house has disappeared into my memory forever. I clung to the moon piece belonging to my heart and walked under the ash tree, accompanied by this dead leaf in my palm, and the light grew old together.
I still remember that I liked to set off firecrackers when I was still wearing open-backed pants, but now I am not confused, and this preference has not changed. I never thought this "hobby" was hereditary. My child is now a sophomore. In the drawer of his room, even though it is far from the Spring Festival, I can still find several kinds of fireworks, as well as his etiquette gun modified with a pump. Especially when I go back to my hometown on Sunday and occasionally set off firecrackers, I still stir my neighbors like urchins.
I went home a few days ago, talked with him about his studies, and suggested that he give up this "hobby" because the Spring Festival is far away. Who knows, he said, "Isn't it still on February 2?" I have no heart.
I understand that setting off firecrackers on February 2 nd is what my mother said. On the morning of February 2nd every year, the first thing my mother does after getting up is to put a string of whips and then pull out a basket of plant ash from the kitchen. Then take out a shovel with a long handle and shovel a shovel of ash from the basket. People standing in the middle of the yard, with a hard flat shovel, slowly turn their bodies with their feet as points, and suddenly a circle comes out. Then jump out of this circle and draw some circles tangent to this circle.
Mother said, this is a grain depot.
Every time my mother draws a circle, I'm still under the covers. What I do after getting up is flogging, but I always do what I want. Sometimes I throw the lit firecrackers into the neighbor's pigsty or chicken coop. At this time, I was often scolded, but I ran away and hid in another haystack to continue doing bad things.
I don't know if I'm too bad or if my neighbor named "Long" bullied me. I didn't do anything and they called me bad. I did something bad, and they told me the most. One year on February 2, it seemed to be Sunday, and I was still awake in bed. Three "dragons" came to my bed and boasted about his "granary". I dismissed it and boasted that I could draw a circle. I don't know. He said with a bad smile, "Your circle is round, but who painted it?"
I got up and saw that the circles in front of the door were all painted by their feet. I asked him if he did it, and the three dragons said that he didn't do it anyway. He smiled badly. I told my mother who was cooking, and her mother said disapprovingly, "If you draw, it's nothing, just a bumper harvest next year."
I played with Sanlong until noon and gave him a little clay figurine. Who knows that he told the secret of the morning-the gray "granary" was actually destroyed by the second brother. I ran to his house, trying to find two "dragons" to reason with. Who knows this guy is older than me and despises me like a challenge? I gave him a cold look and turned to his yard. As soon as I unbuttoned my pants, I peed a lot in front of the gray circle. Suddenly, the gray circle is blurred and urine and water cross-flow.
The second "dragon" rushed at me at once, and I stepped aside to avoid it. He chased me as if to hit me. But how can his bloated figure catch up with me? I ran and stopped to tease him to keep chasing, but he was helpless. Far away, I heard three dragons and his mother say that "Liang Tun" was washed away by my urine, and his mother seemed to be cursing. However, I am already the winner, standing at a distance and shaking my head proudly.
In fact, many times in memory at that time were related to hunger. My current understanding of what adults call the "granary" of the gray circle is that February 2 is the season for all trees to recover. What the people expect is nothing more than a bumper harvest in the field, and the worm's eye is blown out, so that the harvested food will suffer less.
Last year, I excitedly asked the three "dragons" about peeing and flushing the gray circle when I was a child. Unexpectedly, he completely forgot. I can't help but feel a little lost.
If we recall some beautiful things, sometimes you won't have the heart. Because the more beautiful things you remember, the more sad and painful you may be. This kind of place is almost the same. I think it must have come from a certain era when you were young and inexperienced a long time ago, and it often exists for a long time somewhere in our hometown.
In Shaodian Township in the hinterland of the Central Plains, every year on the second day of the second lunar month, there is bound to be a grand event for the whole town in this land rich in wheat and rapeseed. If I remember the first time I rushed to this temple fair, to be honest, I can't remember it when I was young, but I remember the last time I rushed to the temple fair.
1999 February 4th, Spring Equinox, a sunny day. Now think about it, when I was a child, I was very adventurous. I got up early, picked up the change I had saved, and rode to the temple fair alone. Because I didn't have breakfast, I ate a big bowl of fried bean jelly and a big bowl of fried dumplings at the temple fair. These two wonderful flavors are in my memory, and I will never forget them even when I am old.
What I remember is those busy and scattered old people, playing on the stage and watching the following plays. Shouts at the entrance of the circus, beautiful girls at the entrance of the song and dance troupe. Strangely, the weather in my memory that day was obviously sunny, but if I really repeat these scenes in my mind, everything will be gray. I think it must be that time has faded all the boring colors, and it is the most real and profound good impression.
I remember that day clearly because it was my birthday in the solar calendar. I was born at the vernal equinox, and I think my birthday is a good holiday. So I kicked my heart and wanted to buy myself a birthday present at the temple fair. I walked from street south to street north, and I didn't find anything particularly good.
At that time, the rural life was poor, and it was difficult to have any exquisite and beautiful objects. I think what existed at that time was probably made in China. Just as I was about to leave, I found an old man pushing a cart, which was full of odds and ends of exquisite jade. Maybe it's a jade plot that has been passed down from China people for ages. I think we should spend money to buy one, and it's gossip-shaped after a long time.
I asked for eight dollars, but I only had five dollars in my pocket. This is the pocket money I have worked so hard to save for a long time. So I told the old man how much I liked this object. I forgot the details and bought it for the last five dollars. I was happy for a long time when I got on the bus and walked home.
Life is like this. Unconsciously, you will never see the beauty you think you will get used to in your later life. I will think that the annual February party will come as scheduled, that I will appear in the same place every year, that I will always see the big stage in the east of the street, and that the beautiful women in the song and dance troupe will always appear in the bright sunshine every year, but this is all self-righteous. Since then, I have never seen the temple fair in February.
As I approached my door, I suddenly remembered a friend I hadn't seen for a long time and thought I should give him this gift. People's childhood thoughts are so strange that it is difficult for you to understand your original feelings of romance, sadness and loveliness. But I can always remember it one day after countless years, leaving myself a little touched and feeling that I have done a wonderful thing.
I know the village where my friend lives, so I rode to that village for a long time to inquire about his home. At that time, none of us knew how to communicate properly. Although I simply said "Chunhui, I'm coming to play with you", we know that the joy of meeting each other is beyond words. So the two of us ran for a long time in the field and talked about all kinds of interesting things we heard these days. Look at all kinds of plants that will grow in the field, and the green wheat fields that will never be forgotten.
When I left, I gave him the gift, and he happily accepted the small gift. We smiled and waved to each other, in fact, this is parting!
From 1999 to leaving in 2004, I lived in Shangcai for five years and never went to the temple fair in February. Although I don't know what the reason is, I think it will be a pity.
At this time of the year, the February Temple Fair in my hometown is in full swing. I don't know if the delicious fried bean jelly is still there, if the artists who can draw candy can still go, and if the smiles on the faces of those children running around the street with candied haws are brilliant? If one day, I will definitely go back and sit under the stage, just watch the play quietly, eat my favorite snacks and experience the stories that the folks around me may be familiar with!
February 2 nd Prose 7 arrived on February 2 nd again, which is also February 2 nd of the animal year. In my memory, February 2nd of my childhood was such an interesting and happy day!
The day before, my sister took me to Nanhu Shagou, two miles away from home, and brought back half a basket of fine sand. My sister said it was reserved for frying hanako tomorrow. Hanako is popcorn. I ate. Corn kernels are fried in a hot pot. This is from Huang Chengcheng. It's delicious, just like the flowers of my old apricot tree. Lying in bed at night, I am still thinking about the attractive flowers tomorrow. I was woken up by the sound of a dustpan at dawn in the morning. I know it's my sister who is dusting the corn and preparing to fry the flower seeds.
Mother has been rustling the grass in the pot room, and the vegetable pot has been brushed clean. After she heated the pot, she poured the fine sand brought by my sister and me into the pot and kept stirring. After the fine sand was fried, my sister poured the young corn into the pot, took the shovel in my mother's hand and mixed it with the corn. I squatted on the edge of the pot. Blow it up My sister picked up the flowers with the tip of a shovel, blew them on her mouth, told me to open my mouth, and then threw them into my mouth and giggled: Is it fragrant? I nodded while chewing. Then the pot began to crack, and the corn in the pot exploded into apricot flowers like firecrackers. While quickening the pace of cooking, my sister sang a sweet nursery rhyme with the rhythm: February 2 nd, fried hanako, and everyone put away their smiling faces. On February 2, every family didn't have enough pancakes ... firewood made my mother's face red, and the hot air in the pot made my sister's face red, just like the peach blossoms in my garden.
Before Hanako finished eating, friends from the village gathered at my door and called me: Iron Egg! Come out and throw mud eggs! I quickly got under the bed to look for my muddy eggs. Speaking of this mud egg, it is no ordinary mud egg. It's round and the size of an egg. There is a thin hemp rope at the back. A foot-long red cloth is tied behind the hemp rope. The red cloth is nested in the palm of your hand, and the hemp rope is held in your hand. And then thrown into the sky. Mud eggs roared like an arrow that left the string, drilling hard into the sky. The red strips of cloth drew a beautiful arc like lightning. Looks good! Although it is a muddy egg, it is very complicated to make. First, you should pick enough locust bean from the locust tree, and then mash them and stick them on the millstone. Then, you can find a thick yellow mud from the ravine. Mix the mashed Sophora japonica beans with yellow mud, put them on a grinding plate and repeatedly throw them into smooth and shiny mud cakes, and then mash the mud cakes with the upper side until they are mashed into their favorite balls. On February 2, the children took out their favorite things and competed with each other to see who had a round mud egg and who had a hard mud egg, who threw it high and who threw it far. ...
Dinner is very rich, second only to New Year's Eve. Some people take their daughters back, and try their best to hold eight dishes and eight bowls, so that the whole family can get together and celebrate this "Dragon Head Up" festival. After dinner, the most exciting moment finally came. All the men in the village, including adults and children, came out. After the adults made a huge torch from sorghum stalks and lit it, two people were in front, one took a road in the village and walked forward. The children took the brush handle of the pot from their own home, dipped it in kerosene and lit it, and left. Seen from a distance, it looks like a dancing dragon. After the dragon turned around the village, he went to the threshing floor. When it arrived at the threshing floor, the adults put the torch in the center of the field and began to revel. The children threw the brush handle in their hands into the sky, shouting and singing vague folk songs: brush handle, walking lamp, big hole in the old monk's hat; Brush the handle, run away, braid your hair in a private school, and grow a big onion ... After the brush handle fell from the sky, adults and children grabbed it, and you threw it at me and I threw it at you, which was a mess. It was not until the torch in the center of the field was completely extinguished that the adults found their children and walked back in twos and threes. Looking up, the quiet night sky is as blue as a pool of blue ink spilled on white paper. The stars in the sky blinked as if they were playing hide-and-seek with children. With the warmth of the spirit of the rising sun, the wind sends the fragrance of wheat seedlings and soil into the heart and spleen. February 2 nd, it would be great to have you for a year!
It's February 2 nd again, and it's February 2 nd of the animal year. The night in the city is less dotted with stars, and there is no deep and lofty memory. The smell of the city brought in by the wind through the window gap makes me feel very lost. My eyes swept out of the window, fixed in the distant night sky, my beloved hometown! Are there any flying brushes tonight?