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11/5/2010 yesterday is an important memory for me, in my hometown journey 2nd, for i earnestly talk to and with God, my passed dad. the day just after some chilly raining days, i read most of the day near my dad's old house's front door, which rightly monitored by the evil dark house's owner, the second husband of my early passed aunt, a diligent woman who left me life time memory, a said once bare poor in the village before the new republic China. the demon's window just peeking our front door, just under a slope. the demon polluted me all the day with his tomb chill, so when i felt reading enough, i haunted the village's hall with my camera. but the front square of the village don't gather any interesting young men as usual, so i picked to travel the newly developing wing of the village, where most of the offspring of the dark house owner shifted their houses to, as well as other minor or confluent family trees in the village where almost all residents in family name Zhu. its a fruitful tour, in which my blended memory and anxiousness called forth. the back hill is the main well being source of the villagers, but all that led by my passed dad when he left his factory for injury on his toes in a blast in rocks and returned to the village. he continued his work with steer tools to make use of stones on our back hill for bridges or other building usage, by unearthed them, sorted them, trimmed&polish them for ready brick or block or other frameworks. his works not only support my education which is the best among my sisters and brothers, but forges my best cherished memory and hope and belief and lifestyle on being a man. that occurred amid the transition China opening to the world from deadly locked communism doctrine. the young villagers gradually all follow my dad's lead and improved their lives a lot in these decades by producing tombstone from the hill. but the village, or town, badly need a new business pattern in coming