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130 Drag word tactics

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    ?

    Another year passed.  However, compared with previous years, this year, there is no joy at all.  The Spring Festival without my father makes people feel quite lonely and even depressed.

    First of all, I would like to apologize to all the book lovers who care about me: "I'm sorry, the update has been discontinued!"  Of course, this year there is an additional item of worshiping the father.  My father is gone, so many things have to be done by me.  Because I was "busy", I couldn't find time to write.  Of course, even if you can "write", you can't "update" if there is no Internet in your hometown.  Although there are objective factors that are difficult to overcome, I still want to say "sorry" to the enthusiastic book friends.

    Before the new year, I wrote relatively slowly.  This "slowness" is not only reflected in the number of words.  I set myself a hard goal of writing at least 2,000 words a day.  Why not set more?  That's because I still have a normal job and family chores to deal with.  Too much will affect daily work and life.  I'm just an "amateur writer".  So please don't expect too much from me.  Of course, the "slowness" I'm talking about here is more mainly reflected in the plot.  In honor of my father, I have basically left nothing to chance.  I want to leave a most precious memory for my relatives and friends, and most importantly, for myself.  Time will dilute everything.  I hope that when I gradually forget about the last period of my father's life, I can still think of the bits and pieces that happened to my father from the words I code now.  Emotionally, it is really difficult for me to accept the cruel reality that my father has passed away.  Therefore, when I am writing, I have been "procrastinating".  I have been doing my best to "drag" my father.  In my consciousness, it seems that as long as the father does not close his eyes, the father will always exist.  Although this is only an existence in my spiritual world, I just can't help it.

    On the first update of the new year, I still couldn't help using the word "drag".  Perhaps, you will feel extremely bored.  But, for the sake of my father, I can't take care of all this.

    In fact, I know very well in my heart that all I can "drag" is sadness.  No matter how much I "procrastinate", I can't reverse the situation that my father has passed away.  It is precisely because of "cruelty" that it is difficult for me to accept it, and I try to avoid reality in every possible way.

    The day before yesterday, that is, the fifth day of the first lunar month, we visited my father's grave.  According to our customs, those who have just passed away will go to a "new grave" on the first month of the second year.  As for the reason, I am not very clear.  In my opinion, it should be that the deceased also needs a new atmosphere (new year, new atmosphere) in another world.

    On this day, we got up early in the morning.  It is said that "going to the new grave" not only needs Huaming coins, but also prepares six different dishes.  In terms of time, "Shangxin Tomb" is also particular, and it must be before twelve o'clock at noon.  I have always been an atheist, so I don't pay much attention to these aspects.  But now it was my father's turn, and I actually believed it very rarely.  I know that after a person passes away, there must be no so-called other world.  However, at that time, I even had a strong desire to completely deviate from my beliefs.  I hope that my father can go to another beautiful world, receive Ming coins when we "go to the new grave", and taste his favorite food in his life when we "go to the new grave".  Therefore, this day is the only time in my entire Spring Festival holiday that I rush to eat.  Under my urging, everyone except the children got busy.  My wife uses a gas stove, and I am busy lighting the fire (the stoves in the countryside need to be lit in the stove, otherwise there will not be enough heat for cooking), while my mother is busy working on the stove

    As for Mingbi, it was prepared long ago.  Part of it was folded by my mother.  How the mother folded it, I don't know.  Another part was folded by my wife and I.  The way my wife folds it is to put the two sheets opposite each other, then circle them around the thumb of the holding hand, and finally pull them to form an ingot.  That's what I learned from an old monk.  According to the old monk, if you learn proficiency, you can fold tens of thousands of copies a day.  My hands-on ability is a bit poor, so I failed to learn it.  Regardless of whether tens of thousands of copies can be folded, my wife can fold them much faster than me.  I use a relatively cumbersome method.  Just fold it in half and then fold it in half, then fold up one side of the opening slightly, and finally turn it up, and it becomes a small ingot.  Slow is a bit slow, but the advantage is that one ingot can be folded out of one sheet.

    When everything was about to be ready, I rolled out the small cart at home.  Put the small table on first, and then the small stool.  When I come to the kitchen, I will be steaming hot (it is said that when worshiping the ancestors, the food needs heat. Seeing the heat steaming upwards, it means that the ancestors are starting to enjoy the offerings of the younger generations. It is purely folk rumors, please do not  Seriously.) the meals are placed in the basket in an orderly manner.?Take the chopsticks and lift them onto the trolley.

    I pushed the cart and followed behind my uncle who was holding a big shovel and a small shovel.  On this day, several of my uncles also came to my house.  Among them, the second uncle stayed at home and never went out to work.  Although the second uncle never married in his life, he is very familiar with various customs in the countryside because he is eager to help others.  With my second uncle around, I feel more at ease in my heart.  Otherwise, when it comes to "going to the grave", I may not be able to figure out many details.

    Several uncles and sisters bought things for their father in a small shop passing by (it is said that these things cannot be brought home, and after buying, they have to be cremated directly on the grave. Maybe it is not auspicious).  Continue to go to Tanaka.

    It rained lightly last night. Today, although the rain has stopped, the fields are still wet.  When we followed the gap, stepped across the wheat field, and came to the grave of our father, our trouser legs and shoes were all wet without exception.

    Pushing the trolley, I must be cautious, because if I am not careful, the food in the basket may be spilled.  The muddy path and the soft field with high humidity all brought me huge obstacles.  At this moment, the grave in the field is no longer just a grave, but also where the father's heroic spirit resides.  Seeing the grave is equivalent to seeing the father.  Therefore, along the way, with strong thoughts, my whole body seemed to be filled with incomparable power.  Without any help, I miraculously pushed the car to the destination in one go.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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