If you live in the countryside, in addition to urban villages, most of the remote areas of the countryside, you do not say that order takeout, you are too lazy to cook your own food can not.
While the public **** transportation facilities are pretty decent now and decent as hell, like on our side of the country I'm most grateful for the fact that the public **** transportation is all free in the winter time.
That means whenever you want to go somewhere just get a public ****ing car, which greatly improves the ease with which we can get out and about.
And you can put a lot of stuff on the bus, and the driver will come over and give you a hand.
On the basis of such public **** transportation, that is simply very good.
But you have to pay attention to the village inside the public **** traffic is not able to pass, one is part of the village hutong especially narrow, the second may be our side of the special, public **** traffic, especially large public **** car simply can not find.
If we want to take a public **** car, we have to run 3 kilometers away or 5 kilometers away.
Recreational activities of any kind are basically non-existent.
We have some recreational activities inside the village now, like square dancing, but other than that? Nope.
If there is any, it's probably a movie show that comes out of nowhere every few months, or someone from out of town that comes out of nowhere every few months and sells ice-cream.
Basically there's no entertainment other than those, and you can certainly keep swiping with your cell phone, or you can play on the computer there, or you can even watch TV.
But for some of the entertainment, there's a bit more inside the city.
In the height of summer, the fields are full of bounty. Picked rain-soaked cucumbers, cracked tomatoes, beans hanging from branches and vines. Finally there is abundant time to satisfy the tossing, pickling cucumbers, sun-drying peppers, grilling corn...failing and failing again, failing and failing again, and finally turning into a delicacy to serve on the table, savoring the hard work and the labor.
Often at this point in the night, fireflies and cicadas chirp. Cut the well cast cool watermelon, light a candle lamp, lying in the courtyard of the rattan chair, the head of the sky stars, and Mr. discuss the vastness of the universe, the fine counting to the geometry of the constellations.
Occasionally, the weather will be fine, when the red sunshine is open, carrying a camera and calling on the yellow dog, running all the way along the countryside, just in time to rush to the hills above, quietly waiting for the sun to go down, waiting for the setting sunshine sprinkled all over the village, the end of the camera do not want to blink.
With a great deal of satisfaction, the return journey is also seemingly light. Mr. keep cooking porridge stove, but has long dozed off, leaving a room of burnt smell, and the book that covers his face.