On a dry and cold day, no matter how thick you wear, as soon as you go out, you will be penetrated by the north wind.

At this moment, the pedestrians on the road were hurrying and trotting like smoke, and the young people were all competing to see whose legs and feet were sharper, and kept flying on the ground. It seems that escaping into the white sand desert that is not in sight, and people from all walks of life come and go. However, the old people were dressed like cotton bales, and they raised their arms to help their bodies maintain a certain balance, and walked forward in groups of three and two, cautiously.

The mischievous north wind swept across the ground, polishing the mirror-like ground enough to make an elderly person tremble for a few minutes.

The expression on his face was like a snowman built by the children in front of the door, and at a certain moment, suddenly came to life. Shooting off the snow on their bodies, standing at the end of the alley where the sunset pulled up a long beam of light to reflect the smoke of the cooking, they supported each other, for fear of falling, and the white temples of the years depicted the various states of life. The swaying and cute appearance is unconsciously reminiscent of penguins in Antarctica. Whenever the snow first catches the eye, the golden sun pours down overhead, and countless penguins will rush out and gather in a clump of sun, dense and tame, flocks of elm-headed stupid birds, croaking and noisy. At this time, the mischievous cold wind still kept stirring up layers of snow and sand to block the sunlight from shining on them. The sun shines through the snow and sand to paint their already beautiful fur coats with a layer of gold dust, and against the white snow beneath their feet, it is truly a magnificent scenery that is boundless.

I think that in such a dry and cold weather, the last thing people want is to stand on the side of the road and drink the northwest wind while waiting for the traffic light.

There is a large group of people in the Northeast, regardless of men and women, old and young, red, fat, green and thin like to wear mink coats, and they are equipped with a brand-name bag as standard, which is fashionable. In fact, I don't particularly care about and pay attention to my dress, I think it's good to be neat and decent, maybe more than half of the reason is because of the hard life!

Who doesn't want to eat well, dress well, and be glamorous in front of people? Perhaps, if there is a chance to choose again, I think I can be regarded as one!

The mink coat is beautiful and warm, the fur looks fatter on the outside, and the cashmere sweater is worn inside. If you wear too much, you don't look good on the bulging ground. However, most of the people who wear mink coats are beauty lovers. In early winter and late winter, it is fine, but in the three or nine days of the biting north wind, it is a little thin, and it is easy to freeze people.

At this time, the streets were dark, more than 30 degrees below zero, the air turned into ice, and the rampant cold wind tortured people enough.

At this moment, standing in the streets where the cold wind howled angrily, his upper and lower teeth bumped back and forth and trembled disobediently. Where can I wait, fortunately, I will drill when I see a seam.

Pedestrians running red lights are colorful and tumbling in the traffic non-stop. Amid the flickering lights and the screeching of horns, pedestrians went on a rampage and rolled through the smoke. I think the driver of the car at this time kept dodging and cursing these pedestrians, as if he was just about to fall asleep on a dog night, and he heard a buzzing sound, and the bloodthirsty mosquitoes were energetic, biting you, biting you, until you were about to go crazy and crazy!

Who do you blame for this?

Blame the northwest wind, which howls like a wolf, and who would have let it whip people in the face in such extreme cold. In fact, I often observe pedestrians running red lights, whether they are drinking the northwest wind or the scorching sun, or the heat and heavy rain. Of course, at 90 o'clock at night, I was alone on the second-class street, waiting for the green light to cross the road. yes, no one ran a red light back then.

It was already late at night, and I was sleepless but tired. In two days, New Year's Day will be over, and the New Year will be like a beautiful girl with happiness on her face and running towards you in a colorful long dress.

At this point, I began to think about a lot of things that would happen throughout the year.

My parents, my family, my job, my children, and some of the little things in life. The size of a watermelon, the size of a sesame seed, is mixed together, and it tortures your mind so much that you can't sleep.

I don't know what the meaning of life is? Perhaps, it is to live a life that knows that it is meaningless and meaningful.

Yes! Is everything around us going to die like a flash in the pan one day, instead of passing away peacefully as we imagined. For example, human aging is not a trend towards aging, but a sudden blow one day, and the fragility is so fragile that the head turns white overnight. Right now, I'm lying on the bed tossing and turning, like a pan of bread stirring.

Outside the window, the deep sky was twinkling with stars, and a full moon was silently pouring out its enchanting clear light.

If a person is counted on his fingers from birth, the longest is not more than a hundred years. A hundred years of time is just a cup of tea in the vast expanse of time. And it is the ups and downs of this cup of tea that suddenly realize our loneliness, insignificance, stupidity and rigidity of the mind. At this moment, my throat was like smoke, I got up from the bed and poured a cup of hot water. In the dry winter, it is not surprising to catch a cold.

The north wind is a dictatorial queen, and now, standing hysterically in front of the throne and roaring. The unusually high-pitched voices were her punishment for disobeying her commands.

I was wrapped in a large quilt and leaned on the head of the bed with a cup of hot water in my hands.

My family has believed in Buddhism for generations, and since the day I can remember, my grandmother, who is a very powerful woman who never gets a pair of small feet around her, has been sitting in front of the Buddha shrine all day long, burning incense and chanting Buddha. Cigarette smoke, the rows of gilded bronze Buddha, the long years not only do not lose their color but add to their brilliance. It was as if the lingering sound of cigarettes whispered in my ears the endless relationship with me.

After so many years, I think that if people do not have faith, they will be like walking in the dark night where they can't see their fingers, and they will gradually disappear with a black eye.

If you have to ask me to use one word to describe this journey of life, then I want to use the silent language of Buddhism to realize that the word "freshen" is very appropriate.

Who can really see this big "grooming" in life clearly?

One day, when he finished freshening up, put on a neat robe specially made for custom, with a long silence written on his face, he lay stiffly on the marble platform. Yellow and white chrysanthemums are clustered in the shape of clouds, and people stand next to them who have come to pay their respects.

In the world, it is about to turn into a wisp of green smoke, and it will be slowly forgotten. And with the Buddha, it will be considered one by one by the "grooming" of this life. The six realms of reincarnation, or people or gods, or high-ranking officials and dignitaries, beggars and blind streams, or cattle or horses, or ants, birds and beasts. If you groom yourself sloppy in this life, and provoke the Buddha to look at it and shout that it is really fatal, it will not be your turn to be reincarnated in this world, and go back to purgatory, son of the devil! However, when a good person dies well, with a light posture quietly lifts the curtain of the heavenly court, the Buddha will be in awe, and send a messenger to guide him forward with gestures that only the good person can see, playing elegant sounds, and the language of flowers in the sky.

At this point, the hot water in the cup turned lukewarm, and after I drank more than half of it, I turned off the lights and got ready for a good night's sleep.

I was woken up by the alarm clock in the morning, and in general I slept fairly well this night, but I didn't get much sleep in the end. I say this because I had a terrible dream. I dreamed that my father, who had been dead for nearly fifteen years, suddenly got up and jumped out of the grave, and pinched me so hard that I was shocked into a cold sweat. It is also likely to be caused by a cold and the body is too weak and cranky.

I simply rinsed my mouth and washed my face, and passed by the breakfast kiosk to buy a cup of black rice porridge and a bean bag. In recent days, the temperature has risen, the sun shines comfortably, and the down jacket is light and fluttering on the body, which is very warm. Patron walked in a hurry, his forehead was slightly sweaty, and he suddenly felt that a little sweat and cold were about to be cured, and his heart was a little happy.

Forgetting the introduction, I work at an affiliated enterprise of the railway. Earning a barely subsistence salary, but he's busy all day.

I just returned to work not long ago, and I have been working outside before. This New Year's Day was spent on duty, and the meals in the cafeteria were swaying back and forth day after day around pork dumplings and vermicelli, boiled potato shreds, dried tofu with sharp peppers, and stewed pork bones. The chef who made the meal had two swimming rings piled up under his neck, and he had a fat round face with eyes narrowed into a line. His right hand, which was holding the big spoon, was always trembling as if he were not listening. The mouth also asks you idly: Is it enough to eat? Is it enough to eat? If you say you don't have enough to eat, add more. He bowed his head and pulled out a pot of dried salted radishes from under the table and said, "Come on!" I want to say, fat master, you are really a good medicine for dieters!

The ban on fireworks and firecrackers made the festival slip away quietly, and if it weren't for a friend reminding me, I would have forgotten that today is the solar calendar year. Since the beginning of the year, I sent away my mother, who did not have time to say a word in a hurry, and in my heart, maybe there is no New Year's Day, and I can't bear to think of it today.

When I was a child, my family was poor, and my parents had no food to eat in order to save some money for the New Year. When my mother was cooking dinner, she mixed more than half of the bud rice noodles and a small half of the black noodles together to steam the steamed buns. Let's call it steamed bread for the time being, because it is really different from the white flour steamed bread you eat now, whether it is color, texture or taste, and it is difficult to stick to your teeth.

After school, I often helped my mother to make a fire in the stove, put water in the pot, turned around and quickly picked up the soil basket and took the sickle to the ground 100 meters away to pull out the thick snow, and waved the sickle to lay down a few frozen cabbages. It's the kind of cabbage that doesn't help cabbage, and no one wants it.

After going back, my mother washed the cabbage, scalded it, spread it on the cage drawer, and steamed buns were placed on it. I chopped wood to fill the stove with firewood while roasting my frostbitten hands through the flames. Looking back now, the life at that time was really hard, and it was not something I could say in a few words.

After thirty or forty minutes of hard work, the meal was served, and there was a large round table made of wood, painted with vermilion paint. A red candle burned on the wax table in the middle of the table, and an iron pair of scissors sat next to it. My mother always cut the thread of the wax core short in a moment, and she said that it was a saving thing.

Zhang chewed on the steaming Erhe noodles steamed buns, ripped off the cabbage under the steamed buns and dipped them in sauce to eat, and drank some boiled water, this is dinner.

The light of the candle, bright or dim, danced into the small round mirror on the cabinet, and I took it in my hand and wiped it with the sleeve of my padded jacket, and my face was full of black and gray in it. It's like the face of the man who often appears on the street burning coal and bursting the bud rice, black as a coke stick.

Over the years, I have stumbled upon the fact that the restaurant has launched a dish of frozen cabbage at some point, which is just that the best cabbage is frozen in the freezer. I've eaten it before, but I just didn't feel the novelty of how to eat cabbage like everyone else.