那些年,爷爷奶奶总是带着我回到农村老家过年。当我们踏上北去的列车,我的寒假就要在农村老家度过了,那里有着熟悉的乡音和淡淡的旱烟味。在老家,一进腊月里老爷爷老奶奶就会数着日子等待孩子们的归来。腊月里伴随着长辈们的忙碌,年一天天地近了。到了三十晚上一家人会围坐在暖暖的炕上看着黑白电视中播放的春晚,不等新年钟声敲响,我就睡着了。大年初一 In those years, grandparents always took me back to the rural hometown. When we set foot on the north of the train, my winter vacation would have spent in the rural home, where there is a familiar accent and a touch of dry smoke flavor. In her hometown, grandpa grandma who entered the twelfth lunar month would count on the days waiting for the children’s return. In the twelfth lunar month accompanied by elders busy, year by year near. In the evening of thirty, one family will sit around the warm kang and watch the spring and night broadcast in black-and-white television. As the New Year bell rings, I fall asleep. New Year’s Day