ÄÚÈÝ·¢²¼¸üÐÂʱ¼ä : 2024/12/23 21:22:35ÐÇÆÚÒ» ÏÂÃæÊÇÎÄÕµÄÈ«²¿ÄÚÈÝÇëÈÏÕæÔĶÁ¡£
. . . .
ȫаæ´óѧӢÓï×ۺϽ̳Ì3¿ÎÎÄÔÎļ°·Òë
unit 1 Mr. Dohert?y Builds? His Dream Life In Americ?a many people? have a romant?ic idea of life in the countr?yside. Many living? in towns dream of starti?ng up their own farm, of living? off the land. Few get round to puttin?g their dreams? into practi?ce. This is perhap?s just as well, as the life of a farmer? is far from easy, as Jim Dohert?y discov?ered when he set out to combin?e being a writer? with runnin?g a farm. Nevert?heless?, as he explai?ns, he has no regret?s and remain?s enthus?iastic? about his decisi?on to change? his way of life. ÔÚÃÀ¹ú£¬²»ÉÙÈ˶ÔÏç´å?Éú»î»³ÓÐÀËÂþ?µÄÇé¸Ð¡£Ðí¶à¾ÓסÔÚ³Ç?ÕòµÄÈËÃÎÏë×Å?×Ô¼º°ì¸öÅ©³¡?£¬ÃÎÏë×Å¿¿ÍÁµØ?ΪÉú¡£ºÜÉÙÓÐÈËÕæÈ¥?°ÑÃÎÏë±äΪÏÖ?ʵ¡£»òÐíÕâҲûÓÐ?ʲô²»ºÃ£¬ÒòΪ£¬ÕýÈ缪ķ?¶à¶ûµÙµ±³õ¿ª?ʼÆäд×÷ºÍÅ©?³¡¾ÓªË«ÖØÉú?ÑÄʱËùÌåÑéµ½?µÄÄÇÑù£¬Å©¸ûÉú»îÔ¶·Ç?ÇáËÉ×ÔÔÚ¡£µ«ËûдµÀ£¬×Ô¼º²¢²»ºó»Ú?£¬¶Ô×Ô¼º×÷³öµÄ?¸Ä±äÉú»î·½Ê½?µÄ¾ö¶¨ÈÔÈÈÇé?²»¼õ¡£ Mr. Dohert?y Builds? His Dream Life Jim Dohert?y 1 There are two things? I have always? wanted? to do -- write and live on a farm. Today I'm doing both. I am not in E. B. White's class as a writer? or in my
¿É±à¼
. . . .
neighb?ors' league? as a farmer?, but I'm by. And after years of frustr?ation with city and suburb?an living?, my wife Sandy and I have gettin?gfinall?y found conten?tment here in the countr?y. ¶à¶ûµÙÏÈÉú´´?½¨×Ô¼ºµÄÀíÏë?Éú»î ¼ªÄ·?¶à¶ûµÙ ÓÐÁ½¼þÊÂÊÇÎÒ?Ò»Ö±Ïë×öµÄ¨D¨Dд×÷ÓëÎñÅ©¡£Èç½ñÎÒͬʱ×ö?×ÅÕâÁ½¼þÊ¡£×÷Ϊ×÷¼Ò£¬ÎÒºÍE?B?»³Ìز»Êôͬһ?µÈ¼¶£¬×÷Ϊũ³¡Ö÷£¬ÎÒºÍÏçÁÚÒ²²»?ÊÇͬһÀàÈË£¬²»¹ýÎÒÓ¦¸¶µÃ?»¹ÐС£ÔÚ³ÇÊÐÒÔ¼°½¼?ÇøÀú¾¶àÄêµÄ?âêã¯Ê§ÍûÖ®ºó?£¬ÎÒºÍÆÞ×ÓÉ£µÏ?ÖÕÓÚÔÚÕâÀïµÄ?Ïç´åÑ°ÃÙµ½ÐÄ?ÁéµÄÂú×ã¡£ 2 It's a self-relian?t sort of life. We grow nearly? all of our fruits? and vegeta?bles. Our hens keep us in eggs, with severa?l dozen left over to sell each week. Our bees provid?e us with honey, and we cut enough? wood to just about make it throug?h the heatin?g season?. ÕâÊÇÒ»ÖÖ×ÔÁ¦?¸üÉúµÄÉú»î¡£ÎÒÃÇʳÓõĹû?Êß¼¸ºõ¶¼ÊÇ×Ô?¼ºÖֵġ£×Ô¼ÒËÇÑøµÄ¼¦?Ìṩ¼¦µ°£¬Ã¿ÐÇÆÚ»¹ÄÜÊ£?Ó༸ʮ¸ö³öÊÛ?¡£×Ô¼ÒÑøÖ³µÄÃÛ?·äÌṩ·äÃÛ£¬ÎÒÃÇ»¹×Ô¼º¶¯?ÊÖ¿³²ñ£¬×ã¿É¹©¹ý¶¬È¡?ů֮Óᣠ3 It's a satisf?ying life too. In the summer? we canoe on the river, go picnic?king in the woods and take long bicycl?e rides. In the winter? we ski and skate. We get excite?d about sunset?s. We love the smell of the earth warmin?g and the sound of cattle?
¿É±à¼
. . . .
lowing?. We watch for hawks in the sky and deer in the cornfi?elds. ÕâÒ²ÊÇÒ»ÖÖÁî?ÈËÂú×ãµÄÉú»î?¡£ÏÄÈÕÀïÎÒÃÇÔÚ?ºÓÉϵ´ÖÛ£¬ÔÚÁÖ×ÓÀïÒ°²Í?£¬Æï×Å×ÔÐгµ³¤?ʱ¼äÂþÓΡ£¶¬ÈÕÀïÎÒÃÇ»¬?Ñ©Áï±ù¡£ÎÒÃÇΪÂäÈÕµÄ?Óà»Ô¶ø¼¤¶¯¡£ÎÒÃÇ°®ÎÅ´óµØ?»ØůµÄÆøÏ¢£¬°®ÌýţȺßè½Ð?¡£ÎÒÃÇÊØ×Å¿´Ó¥?¶ù·É¹ýÉÏ¿Õ£¬¿´ÓñÃ×Ìï¼ä¹?ȺæÒÔ¾¡£ 1/75Ò³4 But the good life can get pretty? tough. Three months? ago when it was 30 below, we spent two misera?ble days haulin?g firewo?od up the river on a sled. Three months? from now, it will be 95 above and we will be cultiv?ating corn, weedin?g strawb?erries? and killin?g chicke?ns. Recent?ly, Sandy and I had to retile? the back roof. Soon Jim, 16 and Emily, 13, the younge?st of our four childr?en, will help me make some long-overdu?e improv?ements? on the outdoo?r toilet? that supple?ments our indoor? plumbi?ng when we are workin?g outsid?e. Later this month, we'll spray the orchar?d, paint the barn, plant the garden? and clean the hen house before? the new chicks? arrive?. µ«Èç´ËÃÀÃîµÄ?Éú»îÓÐʱ»á±ä?µÃÏ൱¼è¿à¡£¾ÍÔÚÈý¸öÔÂÇ°?£¬Æøνµµ½»ªÊÏ?ÁãÏÂ30¶È£¬ÎÒÃÇÐÁ¿àÀÍ×÷?ÁËÕûÕûÁ½Ì죬ÓÃÒ»¸öÑ©ÇÁÑØ?ןӱßÍÏÔËľ?²ñ¡£ÔÙ¹ýÈý¸öÔ£¬ÆøλáÉýµ½9?5¶È£¬ÎÒÃǾÍÒª¸øÓñ?Ã×ËÉÍÁ£¬ÔÚ²ÝÝ®µØ³ý²Ý?£¬»¹ÒªÔ×ɱ¼ÒÇÝ?¡£Ç°
¿É±à¼
. . . .
Ò»Õó×ÓÎÒºÍ?É£µÏ²»µÃ²»·?ÐÞºóÎݶ¥¡£¹ýЩʱºò£¬Ëĸöº¢×ÓÖеÄ?Á½¸öСµÄ£¬16ËêµÄ¼ªÃ×?ºÍ13ËêµÄ°£?Ã×Àò£¬»á°ï×ÅÎÒÒ»Æð?°ÑÍÏÁ˺ܾÃû?ÐÞµÄÊÒÍâ²ÞËù?ÐÞÝÝһϣ¬ÄÇÊÇרΪÊÒÍâ?¸É»îÐÞ½¨µÄ¡£Õâ¸öÔÂÍíЩʱ?ºò£¬ÎÒÃÇÒª¸ø¹ûÊ÷?ÅçÈ÷Ò©Ë®£¬ÒªÓÍÆá¹È²Ö£¬Òª¸ø²ËÔ°²¥ÖÖ?£¬Òª¸ÏÔÚеÄС?¼¦Ô˵½Ö®Ç°Çå?ɨ¼¦Éá¡£ 5 In betwee?n such chores?, I manage? to spend 50 to 60 hours a week at the typewr?iter or doing report?ing for the freela?nce articl?es I sell to magazi?nes and newspa?pers. Sandy, meanwh?ile, pursue?s her own demand?ing schedu?le. Beside?s the usual househ?old routin?e, she overse?es the garden? and beehiv?es, bakes bread, cans and freeze?s, drives? the kids to their music lesson?s, practi?ces with them, takes organ lesson?s on her own, does resear?ch and typing? for me, writes? an articl?e hersel?f now and then, tends the flower? beds, stacks? a little? wood and delive?rs the eggs. There is, as the old saying? goes, no rest for the wicked? on a place like this -- and not much for the virtuo?us either?. ÔÚÕâЩ»î¼ÆÖ®?¼ä£¬ÎÒÿÖÜÒª³é¿Õ?»¨Îå¡¢ÁùÊ®¸öСʱ£¬²»ÊÇ´ò×Ö׫ÎÄ?£¬¾ÍÊÇΪ×÷Ϊ×Ô?ÓÉ׫¸åÈËͶ¸ø?±¨¿¯µÄÎÄÕ½ø?Ðвɷá£É£µÏÔòÓÐËý×Ô?¼º·±Ã¦µÄ¹¤×÷?Èճ̡£³ýÁËÈÕ³£µÄ¼Ò?Îñ£¬Ëý»¹ÕչܲËÔ°?ºÍ·ä·¿£¬ºæ¿¾Ãæ°ü£¬½«Ê³Æ·×°¹Þ¡¢Àä²Ø£¬¿ª
¿É±à¼
. . . .
³µËͺ¢×Óѧ?ÒôÀÖ£¬ºÍËûÃÇÒ»ÆðÁ·?Ï°£¬×Ô¼º»¹ÒªÉÏ·ç?ÇٿΣ¬ÎªÎÒ×öЩÑо¿?¹¤×÷²¢´ò×Ö£¬×Ô¼ºÓÐʱҲд?дÎÄÕ£¬»¹ÒªÊÌŪ»¨ÆÔ?£¬¶ÑÞûľ²ñ¡¢ÔËËͼ¦µ°¡£ÕýÈçÀÏ»°ËµµÄ?ÄÇÑù£¬ÔÚÕâÖÖÇéÐÎÖ®?Ï£¬»µÈ˲»µÃÏШD¨DÏ͵ÂÖ®ÈËҲЪ?²»ÁË¡£ 6 None of us will ever forget? our first winter?. We were buried? under five feet of snow from Decemb?er throug?h March. While one storm after anothe?r blaste?d huge drifts? up agains?t the house and barn, we kept warm inside? burnin?g our own wood, eating? our own apples? and loving? every minute? of it. ÎÒÃÇËÒ²²»»á?Íü¼ÇµÚÒ»ÄêµÄ?¶¬Ìì¡£´Ó12ÔÂÒ»Ö±?µ½3Ôµף¬ÎÒÃǶ¼±»Éî´ï?5Ó¢³ßµÄ»ýÑ©?À§×Å¡£±©·çÑ©ËÁÅ°£¬Ò»³¡½Ó×ÅÒ»³¡?£¬»ýÑ©ºñºñµØ¸²?¸Ç×ÅÎÝ×Ӻ͹È?²Ö£¬¶øÊÒÄÚ£¬ÎÒÃÇÓÃ×Ô¼º¿³?·¥µÄľ²ñÉÕ»ð?ȡů£¬³Ô×Å×Ô¼ÒÖÖÖ²?µÄÆ»¹û£¬ÎÂÜ°¿ìÀÖÿһ?·ÖÖÓ¡£ 7 When spring? came, it brough?t two floods?. First the river overfl?owed, coveri?ng much of our land for weeks. Then the growin?g season? began, swampi?ng us under wave after wave of produc?e. Our freeze?r filled? up with cherri?es, raspbe?rries, strawb?erries?, aspara?gus, peas, beans and corn. Then our canned?-goods shelve?s and cupboa?rds began to grow with preser?ves, tomato? juice, grape juice, plums, jams and jellie?s. Eventu?ally, the
¿É±à¼