When will the hometown pass away

Cooking tobacco, as a form of thing, in the inheritance of China's thousands of years of history and culture, has always been poured out, described and praised by literati and inkers as the spiritual sustenance of homesick customs. From Wang Wei's "Crossing the Sunset, Lonely Smoke in the Ruins" ("Lianchuan Idle Residence Gives Pei Xiucai") to Fan Chengda: "Bisui Cooking Smoke As a Tree Straight, Green Stream Water Taking Advantage of Bridge Bay" ("Early Hair Bamboo"), all of them use concise and bright brush and ink to express the poet's strong homesickness and nostalgia.

Our generation grew up in poverty with cooking smoke. From 1949 to 1952, from the founding of the People's Republic of China to the anti-hegemonic land reform in the early 1940s, the people became the masters of the household and received land tools and cattle. Our parents worked hard under the leadership of Chairman Mao of the Communist Party, and we, who have just begun to remember, have joined in very consciously. I remember that whenever the cattle needed to be grazed on rotation, they were woken up by their parents from their sweet sleep before dawn to herd the cattle. Man's calves are short enough to climb on the cow's back, so he supports the horn and lies on the bull's head, so that the cow raises its head and climbs up the cow's back along the cow's neck. In a village, five or seven cowherds roared to drive the cattle to the lush river beach, so that the cows could graze freely on the river beach, and we lay on the furry carpet-like cow ken and slept back to the cage by the warm body temperature of the old cow. When it was dark, the brilliant morning sun rose from the east, the cattle were full of food and drink, and the little bellies of the cowherds were grumbling with hunger. At this time, the children's eyes instinctively looked into the village bay. On both sides of the river, rows of cooking smoke with the scent of grains appeared on the ridges of the unevenly raised huts. The children knew that it was the industrious early mothers who were making breakfast. I saw the cooking smoke coming out of the chimney mouth, rising from the roofs of the village, along the roof ridge, with the light wind, wrapped around the treetops, and nana. They jump mischievously, sometimes jump into the sky, and merge with the white clouds, and you can't tell which white cloud is the cooking smoke; sometimes they flow with the wind close to the ground, and they penetrate and intertwine with the morning fog, and play with each other shoulder to shoulder; sometimes they turn into the deep and long piccolo song of the shepherd boy on the back of the cow; sometimes it condenses into the psalm of the peasant's early spring cultivation. The smoke in the morning wind filled the fragrance of grains and grains, attracting us to rush the cattle who had eaten and drunk enough to rush back to the village happily, like a young boy waiting to be fed to ask his mother's arms.

The cooking smoke of the hometown is condensed in the hard work of the mother. Whenever the weather is sunny and the sun is shining, my mother will get up early to be wet with rainy straw, bean stems and wheat oranges and other firewood grass in the grass field to dry, and at night, they are piled together and piled together, waiting for us to come home from school and twist the grass handles. It is the nature of childhood that sa no wild loves to play, and although a hundred of us are reluctant to do this kind of thing, this is an errand that cannot be avoided. If she is mischievous and disobedient, the mother's lightest punishment is not to give dinner, and the heavy is to use the bamboo strips in the corner of the house to squash. Therefore, I can only honestly twist all the dried firewood and grass into grass handles with my mother, and then help my mother to bundle them up one by one, and when my father comes home, he piles them in a small shed specially placed firewood and grass at the door of the stove. After helping her mother to do these words, her mother would grab two handfuls of fried peanuts from a small jar in the room, and fried bowls of beans and other foods to reward. Whenever this happens, we have a special sense of accomplishment in our hearts, and immediately run to our friends to show off, to show off and share.

Mother cooks on a fire, and if the firewood and hay dry, it is easy to burn through in the hearth. Faint white cooking smoke will emerge from the chimney mouth, and the mother will stir-fry the steamed rice and cook the porridge. Fast and smooth. If the firewood handle is wet or damp by rain, the firewood grass will not burn through the smoke when it burns in the hearth. The chimney mouth will emit dark smoke. At this time, the mother will use a long fire to pluck the smoke outlet in the stove, use short fire tongs to stir the wet wood in the stove, and take one end of the blowing torch in the mouth, lying on the smoke-filled stove mouth and blowing air to increase oxygen to help burn. The black smoke that filled the mouth of the stove was black and gray, two lines of muddy tears, scorched yellow hair, and coughing and wheezing in the nose and mouth. Over the years, the mother was covered with wrinkles by the black smoke, and the black hair was white, and kaoru became hunched over, taking away the mother's fancy years. The bowls of coarse tea and light rice that came out nourished our mighty bodies. The cooking smoke condensed by the mother with hard work is the symbol of human fireworks; is a link that multiplies; It is also the source of generational inheritance.

When we grow up, we have a variety of dreams, far away from the homeland where we were born and raised, away from the cooking smoke of our hometown. When you wake up and return to your hometown, all you see are magnificent high-rise buildings, quiet and leisurely small bridges and flowing water. In addition to rejoicing, I always feel that something is almost something. Thinking about it carefully, it turned out that it was missing the most kind mother's love and the most familiar cooking smoke. Since the early 1990s, with the advancement of agricultural and rural reform, rural toilets have been changed, stoves have been changed, water has been changed, and the appearance of villages has been improved for environmental improvement. The development of electricity in rural power grids has promoted the popularization of household appliances. The electric cookers such as fire stoves, liquefied gas stoves, induction cookers, electric hot pots, and rice cookers have entered thousands of households. Completely replaced the smoky wood stove. Free women from heavy housework. In today's rural areas, the kitchen of each farmhouse is paved with white and clear tiles, and the ceiling is insulated with the best sanitary materials. Solar water heaters and tap water high-pressure equipment are installed on the roof of the red-walled, yellow-tiled building, and the old chimney is no longer visible. Everything is so harmonious and refreshing. While housewives cook under the kitchen, all kinds of electric cookers are in full swing. Boiled in a pot, fried in a pot, baked in an electric box, steamed in an electric pot, and in the blink of an eye, the fragrant meal is served on the table. Healthy and refreshing grandmothers, beautiful and trendy sisters-in-law, young daughters-in-law brush their mobile phones while cooking, dancing under their feet, and listening to music in their ears. Cooking in the kitchen became an artistic pleasure. It is no longer possible to see the kind of cooking smoke that burns all over the house and destroys people's tears.

China has inherited a feudal society for thousands of years. Women are of a low status and can only burn stoves under the kitchen all year round. From the back of the kitchen to the front hall are all guests, so women are collectively referred to as guests. After the founding of New China, although women were liberated from their human rights status, the heavy domestic manual labor was not fundamentally liberated. In the more than seventy years since the founding of the People's Republic of China, the socialist system under the leadership of Chairman Mao and the Communist Party has enabled the rapid development of social productive forces. The full flow of materials in turn promoted the progress of social civilization and liberated women from the heavy physical labor of housework. This is the happiness that the whole society gives to working women, and it is the care for the spiritual level and physical and mental health of women.

The motherland is prosperous and the people's livelihood is blessed, and the hometown is timely and the cooking smoke is passed away.

Yes! Never see you again, hometown cooking smoke!

(About the author: Tian Yangchun, male, now seventy-six years old.) A native of Xiliuhe Town, Xiantao City. He began writing in 2016. There are novels, essays, folk tales, and poems scattered in provincial newspapers, magazines and the Internet. He is currently a member of the Xiantao Writers Association and a director of the Xiantao Civic Writers Association. He is a member of the Xiantao Poetry Association. ）

Source: Xiantao Network