, cooking was a family affair
. I listened to the women chatting in the firelight, listening to
the stories they repeated
and the secrets only they knew. My
body and heart were warm.
At this time, the men smoked in the main room and
sat for a long time . On the bench, I found some good topics to talk about the
village cadres, the mayor, Xiaoping and Lao Mao,
watching the news broadcast and the weather forecast
. I was kicked out by the women from the pot house. I walked
around in front of them and
felt bored
and went back again.
I think
this is It's my nostalgia
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