On Sunday, I got up early, cleaned up the house, collected the dirty clothes changed by my husband and children, and took the time to wash them before the autumn sun broke out.
I took out a big basin, pressed a lot of clothes into it, grabbed the bag of washing powder, and took the washboard from the second floor to the top of the sixth floor.
The house I rent is near Xi 'an Foreign Affairs College, which belongs to the suburbs. The buildings here are next to each other, and on both sides of the narrow street downstairs, there are small restaurants, small supermarkets and various canteens, one after another, and dozens of mobile vans are arranged in a long queue. Every noon and evening meal time, college students, primary school students, migrant workers engaged in construction, part-time workers, men, women and children, the streets are crowded with people, pushing each other and crowded.
Here, the compensation for the construction of colleges and universities has made the local residents around the college rich. These people have no land to plant and nothing to do, so they rent out their houses to earn some spare money. Residents piled up the second floor where they used to live, got up and got up, picked it up and picked it up. Wang Jiajian is on the fourth floor and Li Jiachang is on the sixth floor. Locals call this kind of building "stacked houses". Above the fourth floor are all yards of "vertical bricks" and hollow bricks, which is quite fast. The sixth floor will be completed in less than a week. No wonder someone joked that living in Xi 'an is afraid to lean against the wall, for fear of falling down as soon as it leans against the wall. The landlord built the whole homestead into a rectangular quadrangle, and even took advantage of the position of the gate, leaving only a small door. There are many overlapping rooms, small windows and poor lighting. The landlord opened up all the places that could be used, leaving only a small clearing in the middle of the yard, and he could see the sky with his neck up. Locals call it "patio".
There used to be a movie called Seventy-two Tenants. I live in more than seventy-two places. There are snack bar owners, supermarket waiters, meat sellers, clothes sellers and small businesses, but most of them are college students. College students have received a good education and high quality. Tenants 100 get along fairly well. The top of the building is flat, the size of a basketball court, surrounded by a wall half a person high. Locals call it "breast wall". The landlord connected a water pipe in the corner, pressed a faucet and wiped a sink with cement. Several iron wires are crisscrossed on the roof for tenants to wash clothes and cover themselves with quilts. Landlords near colleges and universities are all like this. In summer, the weather is very hot, and the room is more stuffy. The tenants couldn't sleep in the house, so they all ran to the roof to sleep. Lay a mat or cardboard on the concrete floor of the roof and lie on it. It's so beautiful, just like lying on your own hot kang. The roof is cool and there are no mosquitoes. If you go late, there will be no place. You have to throw a pillow in advance, put a newspaper and press a brick to take up space. Even so, there is often no place to grab. Even if you have a place to sleep, you should keep turning over and changing your posture, because the roof has been sunburned for a day and the temperature will not drop for a while. You can't sleep for a while until 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning.
Tenants love to go to the roof to wash, because they hang up directly after washing and dry quickly. So, I have to go to the roof to wash clothes early.
I always do things quickly. I walked up to the roof with a basin in my hand. Come to the pool, put down the washbasin, pick up clothes and throw them into the pool, block the drain with a rag, pour in washing powder, unscrew the faucet and let it soak for a while. I took a big broom standing in the corner, "brushed" the floor of the roof and wiped the wire to dry the clothes. A few minutes later, I returned to the swimming pool.
I picked out the white shirt first, put it on the washboard, clicked it and rubbed it. I washed it with water and didn't twist it. It was dripping with water, so I propped it up with a clothes rack, turned around and hung it on the wire not far behind me. I bent down to continue washing other clothes, thinking about it while washing, so that I could finish it quickly in order to watch the university sports meeting. Washing and rubbing, occasionally looking back, I saw a small sparrow flying happily on the ground behind me to dry clothes. It caught my attention at once, and I looked at it curiously. I saw a sparrow, flattening its wings for a while and spreading them for a while. After a while, I craned my neck and sang "Feng Dan Chao Yang". For a while, the small tail is tilted, and for a while, it is "smug"; After a while, I hooked my head under my stomach and made a jujitsu shape. After a while, "the kite turned over"; After a while, "Golden Rooster Independence", look, another difficult "Kicking the purple and gold crown upside down". Wow! What is this little sparrow making a fuss about? It turned out to be taking a bath! Or take a shower. My clothes hanging on the clothesline are dripping because they are not screwed properly. Water drops are like a string of irregular glass curtains, big and small, urgent and slow. Under the sunshine, it is crystal clear and shining with seven colors. Little sparrow is like a skilled ballet dancer. She moved east, west, front and back according to her own needs and the priority of the current, constantly changing her posture and dancing. The sparrow is absorbed, goes its own way, is very comfortable, completely intoxicated in the realm of selflessness, and enjoys it to the fullest. This is a human talent.
In fact, in Xi 'an, people live in harmony with birds and never hurt them. Birds also regard humans as good friends. They can get together in front of the hotel, or even go into the house for dinner, and they are not afraid of people at all. The sparrow may often take a bath, but I occasionally enjoy this wonderful scene.
At this time, the sparrow was soaked to the skin, and its gray-brown feathers stuck to its body. The little head keeps shaking. It is washing its hair. Dropping water drops from its head, it opens one wing again, pecks the wing tips one by one with its pale yellow mouth, and pecks from the wing root like a comb. After washing this side, lift the other wing to continue combing.
The little sparrow bathed slowly and danced its water ballet happily, which made me miserable. I've been bending over and twisting my neck, holding my clothes on the washboard, afraid to wash or move, for fear of disturbing its elegance and scaring away the lovely birds. Just watching, waiting, admiring-
After a while, I slowly looked up and saw a slightly larger sparrow on the "railing", which seemed to be the "husband" of the little sparrow taking a bath. I don't know when it has finished washing, standing on the wall, in the warm sunshine, carefully and methodically sorting out its feathers, and occasionally looking at the little sparrow on the ground, it is waiting for its wife.
The clever and lovely sparrow enjoyed a free shower on the earth, or a "husband and wife bath"!
Half an hour passed, and my neck was straight and my waist was sore. I really can't wait. I slowly and gently washed the clothes in my hand, then moved quietly and bit by bit, and went to dry the clothes elsewhere.
When I hung up my clothes and quietly returned to the pool, the little sparrow just finished washing. I saw it trembling all over, crouching down, flying to the railing with a "shout" and standing beside its "husband" Its "husband" immediately put out his little head and kissed it affectionately. While kissing, I kept screaming, as if to say, "why did you keep me waiting so long!" " "
At this moment, in this case, I can't help blowing "bird language" to greet them. "Husband" looked up and stared at my small ruby eyes, which were dark, bright and round, and stared at me warily and eagerly. Its "wife" doesn't care, doesn't look at it, doesn't care, and is still licking the sun on the wall and coquetry its "husband".
The little sparrow is still kind and loving, and her husband sings with her. What about people with high IQ?