Old Teapot, Old Time(老茶壶，旧时光)
- Old teapot, old time, dense tea fragrance, long story.
Back home, I didn't see the old teapot on the table.
Mo fei fell, broken, or sold to the village taobao to pick up the leakage of second-hand goods traders.
The old teapot, accompanied my father for more than half a century, has also infiltrated my rural youth.
Parasol trees beside the steps, jujube flowers in the yard, acacia trees in front of the house, poplars behind the house.
Flowers bloom and fade, leaves turn green in spring and yellow in autumn.
Summer rain winter snow, thin calendar, thick memory.
Lose the vicissitudes of life and forget, and store the good tea fragrance.
- An old rattan chair, an old wooden table, the teapot on the table, the sun, the moon, the year of the year, painted on the time circulation of the indentation of the package.
Back in 1966, the barren countryside.
My mother's house was old, my family was empty, my sisters and brothers were brothers, my father was my eldest brother, my mother and my father, and I planned to leave the big house to my brother and marry myself in the narrow old house.
Before getting married, my father repeatedly asked my mother whether my bicycle was expensive and I could not afford it. However, I also wanted to buy something you wanted, clothes, shoes, socks and headscarves.
What do you want most? Do your best. Buy it in town.
My mother privately told me, no, there are still many days to go.
If you really want it, you need a nice set of tea sets.
The alley turns a corner, turns right, in the gate of the courtyard, is the mother foreign family.
It is not easy for a young man to succeed and raise an adult.
After marriage, it is inevitable to visit, just a pot of tea, sit down, take a short rest, that is enough.
- Old baoding, ancient city walls, a shopping mall in the city, the father with his abacus, good calligraphy, group accounts, in transcriber of low salary, plus a wedding gifts from relatives, from a white porcelain teapot.
- Old house, the new marriage room, white porcelain tea pot, is the father of selective pot of face painting: ink and paint, classic novels, cao xueqin stone in 23 back to "the west chamber quip XiYu, peony pavilion yan qu jing heart", double jade west chamber reading together.In their parents' names, each has a "jade" character.
The mother said to her father, "a humble meal is enough."
The father said, "tea and food are indispensable, and the present poverty is temporary.
Foreign movies have said that bread will be there, milk will be there, everything will be there!
After work, like pen and ink, young father, hiding in the summer shade.
A borrowed binding book, an old rattan chair left by my grandfather, guarding the thick tea prepared by my mother, fragrant with books and tea, it is a half day's sitting.
This sitting, the book fragrant tea fragrance, the exchange change;
This sit, light rice thick tea, changed the day month;
This sitting, the four seasons reincarnation, green silk to white hair;
This seat, son's blood, tianlun summer.
This year, my father, who was 80 years old, took care of him and waited on him around the clock.
He said: his mother loved his food.
The water he poured was neither cold nor hot;
My mother took all the things he had packed.
He cut his mother's fingernails on both hands and feet.
He pushed his mother out for a walk. There was always warm sunshine.
It is only the mother who drinks medicine, the most taboo tea.
From then on, the father gave up tea and drank water with his mother.
More than 70 mothers sitting on the kang edge, a: "I want to drink water!"
Father took the tea table of a large glass of water, oneself to have a drink first, close in several way: "the water is very hot, 凉 few!"
Mother smiled, her face in chrysanthemum shape.
Old teapot, in the kang head cabinet, through a layer of glass, quietly guarding the parents of the old time.
Old tea pot old ink, cao shi classic everybody, in the classic novel, still have daiyu to listen to that sentence: original purple and rosy bloom all over, seem like this all and ruin well decadent!
Fortunately, the parents, not the book of the happy and sorrowful aristocratic young lady, but the village community under the cornice, ordinary couples.
As my mother said, to live, to eat humble bread, to be content.