老家的四合院每次回到家乡,我总要去看看老家的四合院。这里,有我最美好的回忆。一座20世纪六、七十年代农村常见的四合院,住着十多户人家,一道门就是一家人。挤是挤一点,那气氛,那人情,像一壶浓浓的陈年老酒。清晨,各家的房门相继打开。姑娘打着哈欠走出来,坐在门槛上梳头;嫂子抱着刚从梦中醒来的娃儿,坐在门槛上提屎、提尿,为主人守了一夜大门的狗,伸长脖子,吐着舌头,摇着尾巴,候在一旁;各门户里当家理事的汉子,蹲在各自的门口,手里裹 Every time the home courtyard back home, I always want to see the home courtyard. Here, I have the best memories. A common courtyard in the rural areas of the 1960s and 1970s lived in more than a dozen families and one door was a family. Crowd is squeezed a little, that atmosphere, that humanity, like a pot of thick old wine. Early in the morning, the doors of various houses were opened one after another. Girl yawned out, sitting on the threshold combing hair; sister-in-law holding just woke up from the dream of children, sitting on the threshold to mention feces, urine, the owner kept the door overnight the dog, neck stretched, vomit Tongue, shaking his tail, waiting aside; the man in charge of the door of the man, squatting in front of each other, hands wrapped