当收获季节来到时，他会组装好那个老式单排玉米收割机，并给它上些润滑油，为收庄稼做好准备。他用一个小型福特牌拖拉机拖着它收庄稼，后面再挂上一个货斗。这一套东西噪音很大，与我们现在所看到的能狼吞虎咽地收割庄稼的现代机械可是没法比。他的整个工作就是这样，很平常。事实上，他的生活也同样很平常。他工作努力，乐于助人，并且绝对说到做到。有一年秋天他碰上了点难事，也正是这些品质让他付出了很大的辛苦。
那年他答应了一个朋友为他收割一片坡地上的玉米。可是刚刚收完自己的庄稼，爷爷的小收割机就累得上气不接下气，垮了。要想让它继续工作需要订购一个零件，但这需要很长时间，所以那一季的收割它是再也帮不上忙了。后来情况变得使爷爷更难帮助他的那个朋友，因为他工作的那个工厂要求加班。为了那里的工作他得天不亮就离开农场，天黑了才回来。
收获季节就快要结束了。一天晚上，他和奶奶坐在餐桌旁，一边咂着苦咖啡，一边想对策。“没有别的办法，”奶奶说，“你只能告诉他今年不能帮他收玉米了。” “我不能那样做，” 爷爷说，“朋友既然托付了我，我就不能看着别人的庄稼烂在地里不管，对不对？”“没有机器，你也无能为力。”奶奶说。“不过，我可以用老办法，我可以手工收割。”爷爷答道。“可你有时间吗？”奶奶问，“因为工厂加班，你要那样做就必须整夜工作……另外晚上天又太黑了。” “我知道有一天晚上可以收庄稼！”他一边说一边跑回书架。他抓起那本《农家历》翻了起来，很快找到了他想要找的那一天。“啊哈！十月还有一天是满月夜晚。”正巧，“收割月”还没有过。人们把它称为“收割月”，因为它给农民更多的亮光和更多的时间来收庄稼。“如果上帝给我们好天气，我想我可以完成这件事。”他说。
就这样，几天之后，在工厂加班加点忙了一整天的爷爷来到了那片玉米地。奶奶在卡车里等着他，带着晚餐和一暖瓶浓浓的苦咖啡。天气挺冷但很晴朗，月亮皎洁明亮。他工作了一整夜来实现自己的诺言。
我很了解这个事，因为那天晚上我就站在那台老拖拉机的挡泥板上不停地和爷爷聊天，我甚至不怕苦和他一起喝了那瓶咖啡。我为父母以爷爷的名字给我起名而感到骄傲。
有时候，当我想“抄近路”或者躲避责任时，我就想起爷爷在“收割月”的光亮下拿着大镰刀收割大片玉米地的情景。我会听到玉米被扔到卡车拖斗里的声音和野天鹅掠过十月的冷空时发出的叫声。秋天里暗淡而寒冷的清晨会笼罩我的脑海，我会看到爷爷在终于干完活之后，钻进那辆老拖拉机的驾驶室，往家开去。在他身后，银灰色的月光中，一排又一排的玉米杆肃然挺立着，好像在向一位遵守了诺言的人表示敬意。
Clothesline Memories
情牵晾衣绳
It’s July, mid-summer and it’s HOT.
I walk into my garage to dolaundry and am bowled over by how suffocating the air is in there! I feel guilty running the dryer in such heat. I think of the commercials on TV asking me to “give your appliances the afternoon off”.
Growing up, we never had a dryer in the house. My great-grandmother lived with us, and she wouldn’t have one. She thought dryers were for lazy people and a waste of money, and anyway, she liked how the laundry smelled so fresh hanging out on the line. Besides, it really wasn’t necessary to have a dryer in Southern California—there were always enough sunny days even in the winter to get the laundry done.
Now with three boys in my house I am washing at least one load of beach towels, swimsuits and pool towels everyday. So, I decided to put up a clothesline in my backyard for the first time ever.
I went down to the local Kmart and looked for a clothesline and clothespins.I wasn’t too sure they still made them, but I thought if they did they would surely have them at Kmart. I was pleased to find they did.
I don’t have the poles for the line in my yard like I did in my childhood home, so I set my clothesline up in the corner of the yard using the 45 degree angle of the fence to hang my line. When I was finished, I stepped back to admire my work and I was pleased with myself for thinking of it, conserving energy, and doing my part.
What I wasn’t prepared for were the feelings and the memories that came flooding back to me as I hung up that first load of laundry.
Being out in the yard, smelling freshly washed towels, and with the sun on my back, I was suddenly in my yard I grew up in—helping my grandmother hang out the clothes.
She was always barefoot, dressed in a Hawaiian print mumu with an apron tied around her waist, safety pins on her dress front and a rubberband or two around her wrist (just in case someone needed one). She would have her wicker basket full of clothes at her feet and a few wet items thrown over her shoulder as she hung clothes. Usually she would be singing a song or talking to the cats in the yard. Or sometimes she’d tell me a story about her childhood or her mother.
If she had a bad day or something was bothering her, I remember she would say, “I sure wish I could sit on my mama’s lap for a minute.”
All of that came rushing back to me crystal clear, like it happened yesterday. I could see her, feel her standing there with me.
It has been at least 25 years since I have been in that yard with my grandma. I remember my grandmother often, think of her and miss her, but that first day in my backyard hanging clothes I felt like I had visited with her.
I’ve never had that feeling going to her graveside or even looking at pictures. Hanging clothes used to feel like a chore. But now, I look forward to it.
I enjoy going out in the yard to hang my laundry and use the time to just take a moment out of my busy day and think about things, or nothing at all—and have a little visit with my grandma.
盛夏七月，天气炎热。
我走进车库去洗衣服时吃了一惊，那里的空气实在是闷得让人窒息。在这么高的气温下开动干衣机，让我觉得挺内疚的。我想起电视广告里说的那句话：“在下午的时候让你的电器放个假吧！”
实际上，从小到大，我们家从来就没用过干衣机。因为我的曾祖母和我们住在一起，她不让我们用那种东西。她认为只有懒人才会去用干衣机，而且那玩意儿还挺浪费钱的。总之，她就是喜欢衣服晒在晾衣绳上散发出的那种清新的气味。另外，由于我们住在加利福尼亚州的南部，那里晴朗的日子多，即便是冬季也有充足的阳光能够晒干衣服，所以确实也没有必要用干衣机。
现在因为家里有3个孩子，每天我都要洗一大堆沙滩巾、游泳衣和浴巾。于是，我决定在后院里拉起一条晾衣绳，这可是个前所未有的决定呢！
我来到本地的凯马特百货商店，想要买晾衣绳和夹子。我不太确定厂家们是否还生产这些东西，不过我想如果他们还在生产的话，那么在凯马特百货商店里一定能买到。我很高兴在那里买到了晾衣绳和夹子。
和我童年时的家里不一样的是，我现在这间房子的后院里没有能够拉晾衣绳的长竿，于是我就把绳子拴在院子的角落里，利用栅栏的45度角来撑起我的绳子。绳子绑好以后，我后退几步欣赏我的杰作，为自己能想到这个好主意而暗自得意——这个方法很省力，而且还是我亲自想出来的。
但让我意想不到的是，当我在绳子上挂起第一批衣服的时候，一些感触和记忆像潮水般向我涌来。
站在后院里，闻着刚洗好的毛巾散发出的清新气味，温暖的阳光照在我的后背上，突然间我仿佛又回到了童年记忆里的那个后院——在那里，我帮祖母晾衣服。
那时，祖母总是光着脚丫子，穿着一件夏威夷印花穆穆袍，腰上系着一条围裙，衣襟上别着几只夹状别针，手腕上缠着一两根橡皮筋（以防有人需要用）。她脚边的柳条篮子里装满了要晾的衣服，在她晾衣服的时候，她肩膀上还搭着一些湿的衣物。祖母通常都会边干活边哼歌，或者与院子里的小猫聊天。有时候她还会给我讲一个有关她的童年或她母亲的故事。
如果哪天她心情不好，或者有什么事情让她觉得心烦，我记得她总会说：“我真希望能够在妈妈的腿上坐一会儿。”
所有的一切都清晰地浮现于眼前，仿佛发生在昨天。我能够看见祖母，感觉到她就站在我的身边。
时光飞逝，那些和祖母一起在后院晾衣服的日子已经过去25年了。我时常会想起我的祖母，想起她的音容笑貌，怀念她，但那天在自己家后院晾衣服的时候却是我第一次觉得自己仿佛又在和她聊天似的。
我去祖母的墓地拜祭，甚至是翻看以前的照片时，都从来没有这种感觉。以前我总觉得晾衣服是家务杂事，但是现在，我总是怀着期待的心情去做。
我很享受去后院晾衣服的时刻，我会在晾衣服的这段时间里将自己从繁忙的日常生活中解脱出来去思考一些事情，或者干脆什么都不想—就是轻松地与祖母闲聊一会儿。