Warm winter sunshine
Author | WenXin
On a winter afternoon, come to the lounge chair on the balcony and close your eyes for a nap. Warm sunlight pours down obliquely through the glass window, illuminating people warmly, both comfortable and comfortable. The noisy heart also quieted down, and the thoughts gradually flew back to childhood, flew back to the hometown of childhood...
In my childhood hometown, in front of the door of the three big north houses, my grandparents sat on the maza, working while nagging. In the warm sun, they were each busy with their work, the sun reflecting Grandpa's gray beard and Grandma's wrinkled cheeks, but their mood was quiet and enjoyable.
You see, Grandma is holding a dustpan in her hand, a pair of reading glasses tied with a rope with a broken leg on the bridge of her nose, looking for rice or beans in the dustpan, looking for the dirt and small bugs inside. Grandma picked up the dustpan for a while and bumped it upwards, and then used her mouth to blow Gu Kang on the front of the dustpan, and then bounced it to the ground with her hands when it was unclean, and then grinded it into a face to make rice soup or bean foam soup to drink.
Grandma also often took the soles of her shoes, which were made by herself. She first beat the batter with batter, then dipped some rags on a panel with paste, dried it for a few days, and then took it off layer by layer and stacked it, so that the soles of the shoes could be taken. I saw grandma holding the twine in one hand, and the awl in the other hand gently rubbing it on the scalp a few times, and then poking a small hole in the sole of the shoe, and then passing the twine through the hole, and then pulling the thread out forcefully, so that the children sewed a pair of beautiful and wear-resistant shoes one by one to accompany the children to grow. Naturally, Grandma's hands were also covered with layers and thick calluses.
Grandpa was a smart guy. He is proficient in blowing and singing, hand-weaving, and carving. Although the father and the second uncle have inherited their grandfather's talents in music, such as the father can play the erhu, the second uncle can play the electronic organ, accordion, etc.; but in the handicraft is far from the grandfather's skills.
Every autumn, Grandpa cut a thicket of thin and long thorns from the banks of rivers, ridges, and weirs, and used them to weave baskets, baskets, baskets, etc.; Grandpa woven them was fine and strong, and whenever he took it to the market, he would always snatch it up. Grandpa brought us delicious candy by the way, and a few of our little hungry cats excitedly circled around Grandpa. Grandpa's handicrafts were much appreciated, often given to the neighbors, who also sent delicious food and beat our tooth sacrifice.
Grandpa's specialty was carving gourds. Pick a small round gourd grown in your own home, pick up his delicate little carving knife, and carefully carve it on it. Grandpa's carved little gourd money pot, which is still preserved today, is the toy we fought for as children.
I saw a round gourd the size of a fist, with a hollow pattern on all sides. On the east side, the diamond-shaped flower lattice window ledge, interwoven obliquely, makes it easy to think of an ancient lady who is working as a window to straighten the clouds and yellow on the mirror; in the west is a plum sticking out obliquely, and there is a flower magpie with its tail cocked on it, which is chattering with its head held high, looking vivid; in the north is an old farmer wearing a bucket hat and resisting hoe, and the sunset is setting in the west, and the old farmer is preparing to go home after a day's work, and the carving ground is also vivid; in the south is a bouquet of orchids, and the slender leaves are full of flowers. It seems that people can smell the fragrance of orchids. The most special and most noteworthy thing is its round mouth and lid with flowers, a flower-like shape, only one flower is made into a sharp corner, and the sharp corners are opposite when the upper and lower corners are interlocked, and the lid is tightly sewn. Such a fine art, to get now, is also a must!
My childhood hometown was almost like a courtyard. Two grandparents live in the north, we live in the northwest cottage, uncles and aunts in the east house near the gate live in the southeast, and the second aunt lives in the west house. The eldest aunt got married early, and there was basically no mark; I remember that the second aunt wore two big braids when she was young, and she was tall and beautiful. When I was a child, I used to envy my second aunt and the girls in the flower season, who listened to the whistles of the production team early in the morning, gathered at the door of the house, and went uphill to earn work. At that time, I wanted to grow up quickly.
Near the window in front of the north house, there is a pomegranate tree with crooked branches, and there is a stone mill in front of the tree, and the mother and the second sister circle the stone mill all day. We sometimes helped, but we were all attracted by Dad's ghost stories. Her mother was the eldest sister-in-law, and she said that when she married, her uncle and second aunt were still young, and her mother became the top pillar of the family, and pushing and grinding and spreading pancakes was her main job.
They were a large family, huddled together in a chic courtyard, industrious and simple life, full of warmth. At that time, people's thoughts were clear and simple, the pace of life was soothing, not comparable, the days were full of taste, and the family was happy and harmonious.
To the west is the home of grandparents, who are about the same age as their parents and have four children. On weekdays, the grandmother cooks a delicious meal, and the mother steams a bun and bakes a vegetable cake, and they often hand it over the wall. Now that I think about it, that scene is like an old picture on TV, warm and distant.
To the east is the second grandmother's house, and the second grandfather may have passed away very early, because I don't remember seeing it since I was a child. The daughters are all married, and the only son is still a patient who has not been able to work for many years, and he often runs away from home, and he cannot find it for more than ten days as soon as he goes out. My mother was very sympathetic to them, and often asked me to bring a bowl to my second grandmother after cooking. The second grandmother was very happy, the parents asked me short, and I was happy to talk and chat with her to relieve her loneliness...
When I was a child, there was little work in the winter, unlike there are so many enterprises and factories now, people in their fifties and sixties began to bask in the sun with their arms. Some of them sat in front of the gate, some leaned on the edge of the firewood stack, up to astronomical geography, national events, small to trivial, parents short, sometimes arguing red-faced, no one let anyone, they talked endlessly, arguing and arguing... Pass the long winter days without hesitation. Like people now, fifty or sixty years old is still like a young adult, busy and hard for their children, for money, for buildings, for cars, it is a moment of full energy and enthusiasm! At that time, people had almost nothing to do in winter, guarding a few acres of wheat on the slope, waiting for the gift of nature - snowflakes to come, looking forward to the harvest in the coming year...
Ah, in the warm afternoon sun, you can close your eyes, comfortable, comfortable, reverie, a thought like a wild horse, warm and romantic!
Love the warm winter sun!
Wen Xin, formerly known as Gao Yan, is a member of the Shandong Prose Literature Association and a member of the County Writers Association, who likes to read, write and sing, and often publishes his writings on the Internet, media and magazines.