Recitation: Wang Haixia Author: Yusheng Yan Bai Guangwei
Early in the morning, my mother began to brew the eggs and make noodles
She put the reconciled noodles into a porcelain basin
Cover the head of the flame of the kang
Turned to Dad and said
You go to the set in a moment
Please give our house a stove fire master
Come back and stop by the vegetable patch under the mound
Let's pluck a few more sprouts of garlic that grow up in Dun Dun'er
Is this black grin going to sacrifice the grandfather...
For as long as I can remember
Every year on the twenty-third day of the Waxing Moon
My mother is going to burn the stove and sacrifice the stove
Mom said
Stove grandpa stove woman to carry dry food on her back
Go to heaven to carry food for the baby
Since then, the stove has been in my heart
Left a deep memory
I was still sleeping in my nest
I heard my mother talking to my father
I picked it up in a hurry
Hurriedly asked my mother
Mom, I have to be twenty-three today, and I can eat the stove dumplings
My mother smiled and gave me the cotton coat to the Kang Guy
Then pretend to be serious
You see the baby feeding the mouth
One day the light should be eaten
Hurry up and put your clothes on
Come to the scene and give us a cage of firewood
Usually call me Nachai, I always don't want to go
Today, I am very happy to be a sika deer
Happier than picking up fifty cents
I'm happier than eating sour plum powder
I carried the cage on my back with a scratching hook
Singing red stars sparkle
Bounce all the way to the field
You say no, this baby's family has become more diligent and fast
Several of my shredded guys were in front of the wheat straw set
Pull the wood with a scratching hook
Nachai returned and set the wheat straw on the stove
I asked my mom
Why don't you burn the stove dumplings yet?
My mother said with a smile
Guawa, it won't be burned until the black grin
I said, you can't burn it earlier
My mother said that the stove master stove mother only came back at night
The lord will offer hot steamed buns
It was burned early and the bun was left cold
Listen to this
I really think time passes too slowly
I can't wait to put the sun on the east mound that has just risen
A trampoline was dragged to the west slope
The sky was just black
Can't wait for the chickens to be on the shelves
I stayed between the fires
Wait for my mother's first pot of steamed buns to come out of the pot
My mother sprinkled a puddle on the case
Knead the initiated noodles over and over again for dozens of baht
My mother said that this side should be kneaded before it was tendons
The steamed bun is only cummy, fragrant, and chewy
She kneaded the dough white and white
Rolled into large, round sheets
Grease the top with vegetable oil
Sprinkle with concoction and noodles
Sprinkle some garlic sprouts
Sprinkle some chopped green onions
In the dim light, in the haze
I suddenly felt
On the board are the stars that have been laid out at the end of the day
It seems that there is also the Milky Way and the Moon
There was also the cowherd carrying the two of them to meet the Weaver Girl
Wait for my mother to roll up the noodles
Then cut into a reel and a reel of the agent
I could smell the onion oil and noodles mixed together
I couldn't help but reach out with saliva in my mouth
I pressed the bun with my finger
My mother said, Li Wa Is a good hand
Mom made the bun round for us
Tell the stove to eat fragrantly
I asked, can the stove lady eat it
My mother said, yes, stove grandpa stove lady eats
Carry the grain for Li Wa
They eat deliciously
Move the grain more
Tell Li Wa to eat white bread for the next year
With that, my mother gave the pot shell gallery a pinch of wheat straw
Then, from under the airbox plate
Take out a box of foreign fire
"Uh-huh-" Rub one
A faint smell of gunpowder wafted in
A puff of green smoke came out from under the pot
"Bake—" The fire roared
My mother said, listen, the fire whistles
As soon as the fire roared, the treasurer came grinning
The next year there will be a bumper harvest of wheat
My mother put the cooked stove dumplings
One by one, they are attached to the bottom of the pot
The mouth is nagging
Three flips, six turns, nine moves
The stove is in the hands of my mother
Extremely obediently flipped and moved
It's like a bunch of disciplined babies
The wheat straw under the pot burned in flames
Not for long
A pot of phnom-rimmed tiger back
Fragrant stove dumplings
Just burn it
My mother put this one-pot stove dumpling
All at once, I picked it up in a porcelain pot
Piled high
My saliva
They are all dripping to the surface of the feet
But my mother put the bun in front of the stove board
Don't call me
He also said that he wanted to let the stove master take a fresh breath first
Mom also said
Let the stove master take the lead
Grandchildren keep up with the taste
I know
This is the dry food prepared for the stove master stove mother
You have to let the stove master and the stove mother enjoy it first
Stove Lady Stove Grandpa received fresh flavor of Stove Grandpa Dumplings
It's the delicacy of our baby's house
In that era
The incense of the stove
Absolutely unique
It's our hope all year round
After the sacrifice, the family's life was tense again
My mom had to go on for a few days in a row
Buy vegetables, buy meat, and do New Year goods
It wasn't until many years later that I realized
In those tough years
It was not the stove lady who moved the grain for us
It is our hard-working, thrifty, hard-working mom and dad
They placed their trust on the stove master stove mother
In fact, it is a beautiful yearning for us to all live a good life
Later, we grew up and left our hometown
Every year, my mother would burn her stove dumplings
Carry us a copy
Later, my mother also left her hometown and went to the city
There is no wheat straw fire, no large iron pot
My mother learned to use electric cake bells to burn the stove dumplings
There are more and more stove dumplings
Son-in-law, daughter-in-law
Grandchildren, grandchildren
Everyone has a share
Every portion of the stove is a dumpling
They are all part of my mother's concern for her children and grandchildren
A child's love
A blessing and a blessing
My mother often said
The times have developed and society has progressed
This high-tech in town
There is still no big iron pot in our old house to use to relieve hunger
I know, my mother wants to house it
Actually, so do I
It's the twenty-third day of the lunar month again
I have faintly seen it
In a porcelain basin on the stove of the old house
Piled up with hot stove dumplings
The wheat straw in the pot and shell gallery burned unhurriedly
The wind box beats the beat
Soothes the rhythm of the years
Green smoke gushing out of the kang cave
Wander around in the old house
My mother was around the waist
Stooping down, in front of the pot head,
Busy with the second pot of steamed buns...
This moment
I think
No amount of delicacy can resist
I miss the stove dumplings
(Some pictures from the Internet)
Dialect prose recommended