Friday, December 24, 2010

Field in the courtyard big boy child boy

That year, grandmother give I pinched cold YanYan, with wings like to fly. The steaming cable together to dry, I hang on neck Zha begin to and fro in the orphanage run. girl a circle, I like a proud princess turn to check their hand, nails are too long, dirty, don't let touch, Finger with muddy, wash away...
That day I am very happy, although I don't know what meaning is cold YanYan. The handy left-hander grandmother always change numberless let I surprise pattern, the same pasta, she will pinch 100 sample shape.
Cold YanYan taste now I don't remember, but I remember clearly the look of it. After 30 years, I finally knew YanYanYuan is tomb-sweeping day, cold with white flour do molding like the swallow snacks. And grandma has departed. Old she didn't see me to do the bride's appearance, just in the photo I saw on bright appearance may. Also, the sunny afternoon, squint again and again studied me 40 days daughter's photo...
And I promise promise, but is the childhood mowgli's dah language, grandma traveltime is still a pair of let her pain a lifetime feet...

No comments:

Post a Comment