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【Mother's Day Special】Jar pickled side dishes filled with motherly love (one outside) ‖ Jia Hai

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"Mother's Eyes" Lyrics / Wang Yi Composer / Xu Hongjia Singing / Ni Jiayan

A jar of pickled side dishes filled with maternal love

(Outside)

Jia Hai

As a child, I had three meals a day, and the easiest thing for my taste buds to be satisfied was my mother's jar of pickled side dishes. A bowl of pickled side dishes is calmly served, the beautiful taste is endless, and my heart always ripples with a fragrant, fresh and simple natural taste.

At that time, there were several vegetable jars in the rural old house, and my mother stored vegetables such as kohlrabi vegetables there. In the winter, the mother put the radish, cucumber, beans, cabbage, pepper, garlic, ginger, etc., after repeated processing and cleaning, stored in the jar, and then pressed the pickles under the brine, and then pressed a few large stones on top to avoid deterioration. When it was cold, whenever I came home from school, my mother would let me drink some thin rice porridge, accompanied by some appetizing jar pickles, to keep me warm.

At that time, it was not easy for parents to earn money to support the family, in addition to supporting the in-laws, but also for our three sisters to study, although the father was a teacher, but the family's economy was not rich. Three meals a day, rarely eat stir-fried vegetables under rice, let alone eat meat. In order to save money, the family uses the jar pickled side dishes as the main side dish. In particular, building houses and building houses, inviting stonemasons and carpenters to eat, and it is not possible to leave the jar of pickled side dishes. For the taste of the jar pickled side dishes, everyone is very familiar with it, and they are not picky. Jar pickled side dishes often become an indispensable delicacy for farmers to eat.

I remember that when I was studying and living in school, my mother always fried a large pot of pickled vegetables on weekends, put them in a glass bottle, and told me to take them to school on Monday and eat them with the jar of pickled vegetables, not only me, but most peasant children did this. I still vividly remember my mother,000 feet, washing vegetables that were about to be pickled in a jar, sparkling and green.

Mothers, vegetables, pickle jars, and the apricot tree in front of the door make up a poetic picture. The taste of the pickled side dishes made by my mother is also the taste of love, and I will never forget the taste of love for the rest of my life.

As a child, I always admired my mother. I grew up with a clever mind, and from a young age I learned to make a jar of pickled side dishes with my mother. After joining the work, I also went to the street to buy a pickle jar, which was about the same size as the pickle jar in my childhood hometown, and the appearance was beautiful and generous. I prepared everything, bought a lot of vegetables, and spent a lot of effort to pickle, but I always felt that it was better not to be pickled by my mother. My mother said that pickles require a little skill. I've eaten a lot of pickled side dishes, and none of them are as good as my mother's, and the taste is so strong.

One mid-autumn festival, I went back to my hometown, and my mother still made her own jar pickled side dishes. Inadvertently, I vaguely saw my mother busy in the kitchen, and the green silk had turned white hair. Staring at the wind and frost on my mother's face, tears swirled in my eyes with gratitude and emotion. My mother's jar of pickled side dishes evoked memories of my childhood. When I left my hometown and returned to the city, my mother asked me to bring her own jar of pickled vegetables, and repeatedly told me: "Don't forget to open it and eat!" "Obviously, in my mother's heart, I am still a child.

Indeed, because of my parents' habits, I have always been a little childish. I have always maintained a simple state of mind, although I am also complex in my heart, I can also be smooth and sophisticated, but I do not want to be like this, simple is good, not to cause trouble, is to respect the life of the individual, whether it is for myself or others. Everyone has their own characteristics, and we can't easily judge them. Silence is golden. People who have parents are stable in their hearts, just like with roots, flowers, plants and trees have color and fragrance.

Nowadays, urban people have great pressure in life and work, and they do not have leisure to stay at home to make jar pickled side dishes. Today's children really have a happy childhood of "what they want to eat", but they are more critical of the dishes on the dinner table. I think that no matter what kind of meal, as long as it is made for you by a loved one, it is actually full of happiness! While everyone is enjoying delicious meals and savoring happiness, they should also taste your parents and relatives and taste the thick family affection.

There are many delicacies and delicacies in the world, but no matter how delicious they are, they are not as good as a home-cooked meal made by relatives. There is the love of relatives for us in that meal, and the love of relatives for us in the dish. Such a meal is more delicious than a meal made with any condiment.

In my opinion, the taste of the jar pickled side dishes, in addition to its own sour, sweet, salty and spicy, there is also a hard and obscure taste, which can only be experienced by people like their mothers.

In recent years, I live in a city wrapped in copper walls and iron walls, and when I get tired of eating meat dishes, I always like to open the glass bottles brought back from the countryside, use chopsticks to pickle small dishes made by my mother, put them in my mouth, and feel relaxed and pleasant, and the aftertaste is long.

My mother's jar of pickled side dishes is always so familiar, so lingering, often coming to my dreams as promised, warming my heart.

Mother

I am a native of the countryside. My hometown is a remote small mountain village in the north and south of Sichuan, called Xichenggou. My mother lived there. Mother is an authentic rural woman, industrious, simple and kind.

That year, my mother married into my father's family, who was very poor, and because the mountain was too high, the relatives who gave the dowry could hardly go down the mountain, and my grandparents cried, regretting marrying my mother to my father's family, who had many sisters and lacked labor. According to my mother, she and her father belonged to the kind of close relatives who married, but were not collateral within three generations. At that time, my father was not yet a village primary school teacher, but my mother saw that he was cultured, shrewd and capable, and self-motivated, so she married him.

The mother had just arrived at her father's house, and there were many sisters in the family, and they were all still young, lacking labor, and a sick in-laws. So the mother took on the burden of running the family. Get up early and get dark, feed the pigs, plant crops, raise poultry. ... Every day you have to get up very early to cook pig food, cut pig grass, and get the toilet water on the top of the mountain when it rains. Her mother was not tall, and she almost fell down several times, but she never complained and still insisted until she sent the eldest aunt, the second aunt, the third aunt, and the sister-in-law to marry.

Later, my mother gave birth to our three sisters, and she was even more worried. In addition to work, you also have to do housework. She always did her job innocently and took good care of us. The school where we studied was far from home, and whenever it was windy and rainy, our three sisters did not come home to eat, and the meal was brought by our mother, and in order for us to eat well, our mother always had to run dozens of miles, which was hard enough. My mother never wanted our three sisters to do farm work, and she often said, "As long as you are in good health and study well, I will be happy!" "My body has always been very weak, and my mother is very worried, often going to the old Chinese medicine doctor in the town to find me home remedies, test prescriptions and so on." After a few years, the medicine jars were boiled up twice. I remember that when I was in high school that year, I got the wind chill that was said in Chinese medicine and entered my stomach and stopped studying for three months.

In addition to treating me for medical treatment, my mother encouraged me to exercise and use my will to overcome the disease. Mothers are very good at taking advantage of the conditions in the family. She erected a bamboo pole on the side of the dam, covered with a bottomless back pocket, which was a basketball hoop. My mother bought a basketball from the city and told me to play it every day to exercise. True Spirit, not only did my illness get better, but my body became stronger. Such a move is not easy for a rural woman.

That year when I was doing the concrete dam, my mother and I went around looking for stones and tiles, our hands were grinding out calluses, and our rubber shoes were also broken twice, I was very complaining, but my mother didn't say a word, and she was always happy.

My mother was very funny, and often told us jokes, funny things and silly things about her time there. She loves to listen to the radio, especially radio dramas and commentaries, and is often fascinated and tearful. That year, my family bought the first television set in the village. The neighbors all came to watch TV and there were a lot of people and it was a hassle. But the mother was very happy, holding the bench, pouring boiling water, and was very busy. Whenever she planted seedlings and threshed and built houses, her mother always had to help this and that, but she did not eat and did not receive anything. As a result, the neighborhood relationship is very good, and the mother has won a lot of praise.

There is a crooked river in my hometown. The river naturally separates this side of the mountain from that side of the mountain. In the summer, once the flood rises, my mother will take us to catch fish, or use shrimp rakes or porcelain pots, and it is not a problem to catch it three or five pounds at a time. After the fish was caught, my mother showed her excellent craftsmanship, and made us a pot of fragrant boiled fish soup, so that we could eat sweaty, especially headache brain fever, drink a bowl of boiled fish soup, you can go to the cold and dehumidify, and suddenly feel refreshed! It can be said that most of the fish complex when I was a child was due to my mother.

Today, I am not confused, my mother is 74 years old. That year, I had a place to live in the city, and I took my mother to live, but her old man was not used to it, and after living for a few days, she clamored to go back to her hometown and the countryside, and cleaned the inside and outside of the house, the kitchen, the dining table, cooking, taking east and west, full of her figure. In my mother's words, I can't stay idle! Although in the city, the mother still thinks about the villagers: Uncle Li next door has built another building, and Aunt Wang of the Zhang family has added a grandson........

There were not many members of my family, father, mother, daughter and me. The family is not very rich, but it is still passable. My father had a retirement salary, my mother had social security, and I had a meager salary.

I live alone in the one-bedroom, one-room staff swing room, while my father, mother and daughter live on the fifth floor of another building. Only breakfast was cooked at their place, and lunch and dinner were cooked at my place.

Every morning, whenever I was drowsy, my mother would gently push open the door, bring breakfast into the house, and then gently put it on the table, waiting for me to get up and eat. When I woke up late and devoured the meal, my mother packed up her rice bowl again and went out to exercise. Dad sometimes cooks rice, mainly to pick up and drop off his daughter, and the rest of the time is to fight with the old people on the street and enjoy themselves.

At noon, my mother cooked the rice well, there were many tricks, and our appetite increased greatly. My mother's lunch was often cooked early, afraid that I would be hungry and afraid that my daughter would be late in the afternoon. As long as I'm at home, my mother cooks lunch and says, "You're hungry, pick it up in the bowl and eat it!" "Obviously, in my mother's heart, I was still a little child. I couldn't refuse, and while picking and eating, I said, delicious, delicious, good mom. When my mother heard this, she always smiled with relief.

My daughter and I finished school early in the afternoon, and we ate before six o'clock. My mother always cooked us a bowl of fragrant noodles or fragrant porridge with her excellent craftsmanship. Then, the family goes out for a walk or a walk. I was in front, and my daughter took her father's and mother's hands and walked behind. Three generations together are happy and happy, and it is the whole world.

Having a mother can be a bit childish. People who have a mother are at peace of mind. Losing one's mother is like a flower in a bottle, and although it is still fragrant, it has lost its roots.

Life is given by the mother. I was able to grow up to be nurtured by my mother's blood and sweat. I was able to be a person who wasn't so bad, and I was inspired by my mother. My character and habits were passed down from my mother.

Today is the second Sunday in May, and I texted my mother to wish her happiness. Once again, my mother reminded me of my own forgetting. In my own words, I only wanted to dedicate it to my mother and make the most beautiful diary.

Mother, the winds and waves of the years are sung by you, touching your old times, holding hands, and watching for happiness!

About the Author

Jia Hai is a member of the Chinese Essay Literature Association, a member of the Sichuan Writers Association, the vice chairman of the Writers Association of Jialing District of Nanchong City, and a first-class Chinese teacher of Longpan Junior High School in Jialing District, Nanchong City. He has published more than 200,000 words of essays in various newspapers and magazines at all levels. He is the author of a collection of essays, "Waiting" and "That Sea".

Author series of articles

Source: Sichuan Provincial Local History Work Office

Author: Jia Hai

Pictured: Fang Zhi Sichuan

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