The grandfather of the family, who loves to hold a cup of fragrant tea, sits under the roof of the blue brick and red tile, and looks at the years. At that time, I heard that when he was young, he was a severe person. He could scare his children with a scream, but it was wonderful to treat me. I am following my life with my grandmother. At that time, my grandmother was doing work at home, and he, doing farming things early, I couldn��t help but always follow him to the ground Newport Cigarettes. He held the tools and dishes in one hand, and vacated one hand to hold me, his big hand. Holding my little hand, the temperature of his palm gradually warmed me. I looked up at the blue sky, and there were white clouds fluttering from my eyes. There was a trace of joy in my heart. I only felt that I was the happiest child in the world, and I jumped and left a burst of laughter on the path. The straw is pointing straight to the blue sky, but it is not mature. When he got to the field, he smashed the grass and waved his hoe. I naughtyly snatched his shovel and ran to the side, trying to dig a small pit, throwing the seeds into the brain, and covering it with a few weeds. On the above Marlboro Lights, this is so messy and even smug. My grandfather saw me and strode over. I looked at my "masterpiece" innocently. He stroked my head and sighed, "Hey, you naughty ghost!" He bent down and cleaned up this little. Block, I looked at his half-white hair, and suddenly I saw him down the line of sight. He saw the gully on the forehead, the lips were cracked, and there was a small bloody mouth, even in my eyes. I also added a few turbidity. I think of the arrogance of his youth when he was young, and he couldn��t help but feel sorry Newport 100S. After the farmer finished, he took me home, as he did when he came. His big hand took my little hand, and the sunset always pulled our shadow long. Sometimes on a summer night, he will have a recliner, holding a fragrant scent, taking me to the courtyard to cool, I am in his arms, he sip a shallow sip, the fragrance spreads, he closes his eyes, Telling me the story of his youth, I became fascinated and gradually fell asleep. Later, I went to school in the city, left him, and I was very sad, but I was helpless. Later, I went back to my hometown. He was already in the armor. He was still lying on the rocking chair. He held the camphor and met me. He smiled happily, squinting, telling me about my hour, I listened. The tears suddenly burst out. For a long time, my grandfather still hurts me so much, and I should always come back to see him and listen to his story. When the sound stops, I find that he is asleep, I I took the citron in his hand, sipped a bite, bitterness and lingering on the tip of my tongue. It didn��t linger for a long time, but it��s fine aftertaste, but it��s a touch of sweetness. It��s no wonder that my grandfather loves the fragrant, tastes, and has a sweet taste. Like the past. Related articles: Cigarettes Online