There was no air conditioning, no refrigerator, no ice cream of any kind in the summer of my childhood, and I had to blow on a big squeaky fan and lie in a rocking chair covered with a cooler, but surprisingly we didn't feel hot. Whether it was because it was really not hot, or because we were so happy that we had forgotten the feeling of heat, it is impossible to tell now. We can only piece together the memories of the past to restore the days that had gone by.
Memories of childhood summer, favorite place - nothing more than the row of old trees in front of the house. A piece of thick leaves, forming a tight shade, mottled shadows reflecting on the ground, a meter of sunlight through the gap between the leaves, sprinkled in the tree under the body of the cool people, as if a beautiful flower dress. Children in the shade of the table to write homework, adults in the kibitz, playing poker, the elderly in a card before the chess meditation, there are still a few rash boy around the frequent tricks, annoyed by the old grandpa shook his head. In the hut sleep until the afternoon, woke up do not know where, but found the first drizzle, along the eaves and fall, drip drip drip, the sound of that into the bottom of the heart, so far are unable to forget.
The quiet nights of my childhood made me feel solid. Without those colorful neon lights, there is no square dance, into the night, the moon on the branches, cicadas desperately chirping, mountains and fields, deep breath is the taste of nature. Unlike nowadays, there are so many "tools" to cool down the summer heat, childhood summer, the most unforgettable is the big watermelon home from school every day. There was no refrigerator, so I would put it by the river or in a deep well and bite my finger and ask my dad every two minutes if it was cold. Until a mouthful of watermelon into the stomach, that refreshing feeling, is the taste of a lifetime can not be forgotten.
And when it's vacation time, you'll be in the house with your ears perked up, waiting for that high-pitched, long "banana popsicle". I was able to pop up in front of my mom with a pleading look for 20 cents in her hand, and tasted the cool sweetness of the popsicles with joy. There were also Huabei lollipops, big white pears, bags of 10 cents a soda, comparable to today's KFC cones, McDonald's, as if it were heaven to save the world's food, with the coolness to drive away the summer heat.
The mosquito coils at that time were not electric, nor liquid, that is, the kind that burns with fire. The smell of mosquito coils can no longer be smelled, but also nostalgic. Every family has a mosquito net, almost all the little girls used to put mosquito coils on their bodies, fantasizing that they have become beautiful princesses, fulfilling the fairy tale dreams in their hearts. Shaking a big fan, blowing an electric fan, when I was a child, I wondered why the fan would turn so fast, and even wanted to stick my finger in it to see what would happen. The sound of the fan creaking and crunching, at that time, did not feel at all manic, but felt at ease.
Being a child was wonderful, so wonderful that no one felt hot.