Nostalgic prose 1 Spring Festival, the whole city is immersed in joy. People in the street are all red-faced and rushing around, or wandering in department stores to buy new clothes, or wandering in farmers' markets to buy new year's goods. They seem to have completely forgotten the fatigue and excitement of traveling. Especially at night, high-rise buildings are covered with strange high-tech colored lights, neon lights and shadows. The dazzling lights make the huge city shine like day, which is very dazzling. I have entered the age of no doubt, and I can't help being deeply infected by this colorful scenery, and my homesickness arises spontaneously.
"I miss my relatives every holiday." It has been more than twenty years since I left my hometown. Because of the complicated work and family chores, I seldom go home, and even the number of telephone greetings is very few. I feel sorry for my relatives and friends in my hometown. However, the grass and trees in my hometown, the local accent and nostalgia are deeply retained in my memory and cannot be erased. I just carefully hold them out and chew them every year.
My hometown is in the countryside, a village not far away, where a group of hardworking and simple farmers have worked hard for generations. It took me nineteen years to start my life. The Spring Festival in rural areas is more festive and lively than the Spring Festival in cities. Because it is the off-season, the whole first month is regarded as Chinese New Year. On the 23rd of the twelfth lunar month, the China New Year begins.
I remember when I was a child, I spent the New Year at home, and the walls were covered with New Year pictures, which were nothing more than big fat dolls, fish, birds and the god of wealth. The windows are also covered with cut magpies, so Spring Festival couplets are indispensable. Even the pigsty was affixed with the couplet "Fat pig full circle, there is still more than one year", high wooden poles were erected in the yard, and red lanterns were hung. I also prepared a lot of new year's goods. Although the variety is single, it is very rich. There is a big vat in the yard, which contains enough pork for a month and homemade frozen tofu. When one's brother or neighbor kills a pig, a large family should first sacrifice the pig's head to the ancestor's altar, then make their own blood sausage, cook and freeze their own skin, and stew sauerkraut, white meat, blood sausage and pig viscera in a large pot. The delicious taste fills the whole village in an instant, enough for you to remember for a lifetime.
Adults look forward to the New Year because they hope to have a good harvest in the coming year. Children look forward to the New Year because they want to put on beautiful new clothes at the bottom of the wardrobe and eat several delicious meals without scruple. The most lively thing is New Year's Eve, when the family sits on the heatable adobe sleeping platform to eat New Year's Eve and watch the Spring Festival Gala. Just after ten o'clock, firecrackers were already everywhere outside the window, and various styles of firecrackers, such as kicking two feet, lightning and drilling monkeys, were loud. The silent and dark night sky was instantly torn by firecrackers, so the whole sky became like a rainbow, dotted with bright stars. According to the elders, whose firecrackers were set off? After the firecrackers were set off, our children naturally got together and went to their elders' homes to pay New Year greetings and ask for money. Therefore, "Happy New Year, Happy New Year" sounded in the streets and alleys, which is not only a blessing for the New Year, but also people's expectation for a better life. The whole first month will be spent happily in this peaceful holiday atmosphere.
For more than 20 years, I have lived in this bustling metropolis and lived a rich life, but I have never been able to give up my attachment to my hometown and my concern for my loved ones. Simple and kind villagers, innocent playmates as children, local accent and nostalgia are entangled in my dreams from time to time.
The Spring Festival is coming, I want to go home, go home. ...
Homesickness 2' s essay is far from my hometown. I counted it for more than 30 years. However, every grass and tree in my hometown, the path in the field, the sky is high and the clouds are light, the folk customs are simple, the night is full of stars, the wheat straw piles in the wheat field, the corn straw left by the roadside after the harvest in late autumn, the wild flowers on the ridge, the cattle and sheep grazing leisurely in the field, the towering poplars and summer cliffs on the roadside.
My hometown is Kansai Mansion, Zhao Gong Town, Fufeng County, under the jurisdiction of Baoji City. Convenient transportation, rich products, outstanding people. Where there is my native land, there is the simplicity, kindness, strong local accent and childhood memory of the northwest man, where there is the magnificent remains of Joo Won? site and the customs of Shang and Zhou culture, and where there is the echo of the morning bell and dusk drum of Famen Temple in the prosperous Tang Dynasty.
Although I have been away from my hometown for decades, the local accent has not changed, and the customs remain the same, because the soil and water have nurtured me. My ancestors, my fellow villagers, my relatives and friends who grew up together, my parents who worked hard and sweated in the village, are now devastated, overgrown with weeds and strong bases. This strong nostalgia and simple local accent will never change me.
I left my hometown because my father was working outside, and we were young, and there was no labor at home. In desperation, my father solved the hukou according to the policy, and we have a city hukou. When we left, we said goodbye to our neighbors in the village. With tears in their eyes, the villagers held their mother's hand and urged us to walk to the village entrance. Our 40-year-old mother was the saddest and most emotional when we saw the villagers' figure fading away. After all, this is the homeland where her mother has lived for most of her life. There are joys and sorrows of her lost youth and life, as well as old people and brothers and sisters who are reluctant to part with her. Her mother is so long.
I remember my hometown. In the past, due to the lack of recreational activities, people only worked at sunrise and rested at sunset all day, repeating tedious and arduous farm work, and were busy in the fields all day, but only got a little food by the end of the year. Life can be said to be hard and dull, but it is always happy, as always.
For me, the best childhood memory is looking forward to finishing school early on Saturday. Several good playmates went to the wheat field at the head of the village to rough it, waiting to see an open-air movie or follow my mother to the west of the village. There is a stone mill in the west of the village that doesn't know its age. My mother always bakes her own Chili peppers with fire in advance and puts them on a stone mill. The covered donkey rotates rhythmically. After a period of grinding, the pepper playmates took out the already prepared roasted pot helmet, sprinkled salt on it, and smeared it with ground Chili sauce. It tastes natural and mellow. For us in the past, although we were sweating and shivering, it was the best delicious food to satisfy our desire.
Summer is busy and autumn harvest is the busiest season in my hometown, and it is also the day when villagers look forward to the highest prosperity. Been busy for half a year. This is a good season for harvesting and returning grain to the warehouse. Farmhouse is full of harvest and joy. Under the eaves of the yard, the tree forks are covered with corn and persimmons, and the granary at home is filled with wheat. This is also the harvest and result of the villagers' hard work for a year. Although tired, my heart is full.
Seeing that the weather is getting colder and colder and the footsteps of winter are getting closer and closer, it seems that there were many opportunities for snow in the past. At first glance, it is a plain, white and snowy, especially cold. The roads between villages seem to be pitiful. There are roads and dirt roads. In the snow, people only rely on impressions, follow the footprints of others, and rush to their homes in memory. This season is the most leisurely day for the villagers. White smoke emitted from the roofs of every household, the fire started, the hot kang burned, and the work in the farmland was extremely cold. It's time to have a good rest.
I remember when I was a child, this season, my grandmother would go to my aunt's house for ten days and a half. My grandmother has little feet, so I became her crutch. In the past, the traffic was inconvenient, more than ten miles away. My grandmother and I stopped and stopped, and in a few hours we arrived at Yangjiling Township where my aunt was located. In my aunt's house, what I remember the most is that my aunt scooped up a bowl of soybeans to make tofu every morning and led me to the tofu shop to order tofu with the brine that just came out of the pot. The master used a spoon to dig a bowl of tofu, that is, tofu pudding, and put garlic juice and oil at home. At that time, there was a hint of bitterness and a strong smell of old tofu between the lips and teeth, and it felt really pure.
When winter comes, I look forward to the market and the town meeting. At this time, all the businessmen in the vicinity set up tents in advance, occupied booths and set up pots and pans. What I can't forget most is the mutton buns in my hometown market. In the past, although my family was not rich, my mother always got up early every time she went to the market, branded the buns and went to the top of the market to bring a pot of hot mutton soup to improve our sisters' lives. We had to eat quietly for fear that our neighbors would make irresponsible remarks. After all, the living conditions in the past were still not good. Fortunately, my father is working outside and my family can help. At that time, I felt that my sisters were the happiest and my mother was the warmest. I still think about it from time to time.
My mother is a good cook. Although it is a slack winter, my mother is not idle at all. Every winter, my mother always lights kerosene lamps, either spinning or knitting shoes. In the dead of night, in the old house, I can always hear the creaking of the spinning wheel and the thumping of my mother's feet on the loom and shuttle. White cloth is woven. Every market time, a few aunts come, and no one can be idle and help.
Throughout the year, my mother worked hard to make underwear, cloth shoes, soles and sheets for my sisters on the kang. My mother is not stingy. When she left, she gave some to each of her sisters. How sad it is to think of it. It's a pity that mother has left us forever. She can only bury this beautiful memory in the depths of her memory forever and pin her inner sorrow on her mother.
In the twelfth lunar month, after Laba, the countryside and farmhouses smell of Chinese New Year everywhere. In the countryside, in the small courtyard next door, when conditions are better, we start to hang vermicelli, dry noodles, kill pigs and fry oil pans, do our best to treat our families and ourselves who have worked hard for a year, and prepare to entertain relatives and friends with new year's goods.
Finally, on the eve of New Year's Eve, the flavor of the year is even more full. Stick grilles posted couplets, put up gates, set off firecrackers, and added offerings to the Kitchen God. At the moment, regardless of the good or bad relationship between brothers in the past year, when it comes to the New Year's Eve dinner, the two brothers should each prepare a dish in their own homes, take their daughter-in-law, children, and even simple pork jelly vermicelli and a bottle of high-necked xifeng liquor to pay a New Year call to the elderly. After the old man handed out the lucky money, both brothers sat cross-legged on the hot kang and talked about the housework at home around the small kang table. They are looking forward to a good year, a good harvest, a full house of children and grandchildren, and a happy New Year.
On the first day of New Year's Day, the village was peaceful and festive. Neighbors wished each other and said hello to the New Year, which indicated that the New Year was coming and people began to visit relatives and friends to celebrate the New Year. There are more people visiting relatives and friends on the road, and women's headscarves and lanterns are particularly conspicuous, which is particularly festive in the snow.
After visiting relatives, it's time to be busy again. Red lanterns are hung on every door, and the yard is no exception. It contains vegetable oil, wicks, candles engraved with carrots, and various animal-shaped steamed buns, which are brightly lit and thriving everywhere. On the fifteenth day, the town was organized, and the villagers spontaneously played social fires, walked on stilts, set up a stage to sing a big drama, and washed away the hard work of the year in various ways. With the approach of spring, many villagers are busy in the fields and rural roads, working hard and looking forward to the new year.
Things in memory are always unforgettable, just like an old calendar that I occasionally want to flip through, looking for memories of the past years and memories of the past. The memory of my hometown is a pot of old wine, which is mellow and delicious, and always has an inexhaustible taste. The memory of my hometown is also a picture that can never be described in my heart, because there is the root of my blood, the source of my life, my support, and deep nostalgia and faint nostalgia in my memory.