I love my hometown. I miss my parents, relatives, classmates and friends. I miss everything, my childhood and the warm old house.
My family lives in the southwest of the village. A row of adobe houses, grandparents live in the east yard, and our family lives in the west yard, separated by a one-person high earth wall. There is a gatehouse over there, with two opposite doors. There is no gatehouse in my house, but there is a wooden fence door.
My two sisters and I were born in this old house. There is a door in the main room, and on the right hand side of the door is a stove, which is connected with a heatable adobe sleeping platform and a window stuck with paper. Without bricks and floors, it is directly mud; There is a red lying cabinet in the north, with a tea tray and kettle on it, a mirror hanging directly above it, and a 14 inch swan TV set in the corner; There are two water tanks at the door, which sometimes freeze in winter morning. I remember that in this old house, my mother made an egg cake to celebrate my birthday.
I often remember that there was an idle kerosene lamp in the west barn, and its warm light accompanied me through my whole childhood. There is a reed hanging on the flange of the roof. There are usually things in urgent need. During the Spring Festival, there are handmade cakes made by workshops in other villages, which are very sweet. When setting off firecrackers at the gate of Xiliangfang, gunpowder blew through the index finger of the right hand. Now I still clearly remember the pain in my fingers and the roar of my ears ...
After the village was electrified, one afternoon, my sister hugged me and put on shoes on the windowsill of the old house. I reached for the damaged incandescent lamp core and cried when I was electrocuted. My sister quickly threw away the wire and held me down. My parents were not at home, and my sister carried me to grandma's house next door. Grandma quickly wiped her hands with an apron, found a clean Puckilo to wrap it around me, and let me take a wooden pig food bar and use its temperature to relieve pain and shock. Now the scar is much better, and it is difficult to find traces without looking carefully.
Grandparents have six children, and father is the eldest. At that time, I couldn't remember when my third aunt got married. Maybe I haven't been born yet. The second dad lives in the northeast of the old house, which is a blue brick bungalow without a courtyard wall and a gatehouse. The third dad lives in the southeast of the old house, which is a red brick bungalow with a courtyard wall and a gate. My grandparents have lived in the East Room since I can remember this house.
After grandparents moved out, our family moved into the courtyard with a gatehouse in the east. Although they are all adobe bungalows, I jumped up and down happily for a long time, and the west yard gradually turned into a straw house. There is an elm tree in the east corner in front of the gatehouse. In summer, we often climb the roof of Liang Dong and fold elm trees to eat. It has accompanied our lives for three generations, and now it is very powerful.
We have lived in this yard for many years. It merged into a long river in my memory ... there were anxious cries of finishing homework but not finishing it. Some students came to my house to jump up and down and practice the pain of falling from the roof. There was a cry that my second dad's brother was scared by an owl when he was eating elm trees. Two kicks are also thrilling when they fly in cans. Some friends in the village throw sandbags, jump rope and play badminton in the yard. In winter, when licking the iron hook of the gate with your tongue, you stick your tongue on it and remember the deep pain. When herding sheep in the yard, the ram chased me, and there was nowhere to hide ... Memory is like a river that burst its banks, and it can never be controlled. Fortunately, the dangerous house was not shoveled down during the rectification, otherwise it was completely gone.
Later, my second parents moved to the county, and a few years later, my parents bought this blue brick bungalow. There is a flat woven bag-like tarpaulin at the top of the room, blue bricks on the ground, glass windows, inside and outside, and a small ventilated window behind the kitchen. Outside is a row of old-fashioned western grain houses, without courtyard walls and gatehouses. Later, a set of 80% new integral cabinets was added to the back room. My parents made a fence with stakes and willows, and they have a new home. ...
From the age of eleven or twelve until we got married in 2008, this old house carries a lot ... We love this family deeply. One year during the Spring Festival, my sister oiled the brick floor, which is as good as waxing the car now. Bare and shiny, although not as good as others' terrazzo floor, it is brand new. In this old house, my two sisters got married, my father fell ill twice, and I transferred to another school and graduated until I got married ... The wheel of time kept rolling forward, and now we are all out, leaving only the old house in our hometown waiting quietly. ...
The old house, once a family of five, has developed into a family of four 14 people, and a bungalow has become four "buildings". It has nurtured us and has a long history ...
Spring goes to Qiu Lai, summer rains and winter snows, four seasons change, year after year. The old house and my hometown have been waiting for us, forever engraved with our unforgettable thoughts …
(Text/Jinshen Ciyaogou Coal Industry Zhao Chenglong, Figure/Network)