Mother lives in an old house with an old cat.
When my father was alive, he could store a lot of food every year. After the harvest, a large number of mice live in seclusion in old houses with civil structures, and they need a dry cat to help their owners defend the fruits of their labor. The original one disappeared inexplicably on an autumn evening. Parents eagerly called for a few days to urge their neighbors to pay more attention. Even if the cat has nine lives, it still can't get its whereabouts. I don't know whether the mouse died by mistake or was taken away.
As a result, a scrawny cat cub became the youngest member of the family. When I first met the kitten, I had just successfully jumped out of the farm and found a job in a school. When I went home at the weekend, I met this new member at the first time and learned the news that my previous cat was lost.
Cats are really ugly, particularly thin, with messy fur, hoarse voice and elegant gait, which is simply annoying. It comes from Niang's hometown, in a ravine called Hongyankou dozens of miles away. It took my father a long time to find this ugly cat, and my master was very homesick and gave it generously. Dad came home with a little creature in the moonlight, and mom paid great attention. She welcomed the new members with a bowl of noodles, and the ugly cat was highly anticipated.
That cat has changed eighteen times. A few months later, its physique is strong, its beard is particularly imposing, its eyes are shining with faint blue light, and its hair is brand-new like brocade. It has grown into a heroic guardian, and in the following years, there were few large-scale activities of mice in the house.
About six years ago, cats suddenly became lazy, especially at night. They are too lazy to scream, so they snuggle up in a warm place and sleep soundly. The father in the hospital bed cherishes the fruits of hard work. Without the supervision of cats, rats come and go in droves, free, unscrupulous and noisy. Father couldn't bear it, and beat the partition with a bamboo pole to stop the mouse from going crazy. Mom also snapped at you, you lazy cat. That bristle stung his father's heart like a needle, and it is inevitable that sick people pay more attention. Father is not delicious and hardworking.
Despite its dereliction of duty, it remained loyal. After his father died, only this cat with a bloated gait could accompany his mother day and night. In a long lonely time, mother and cat lived alone, mother promised to give food, and cat was also attached. They are looking for warmth from each other in the cold old house.
When I go home to visit my mother, I will call the cat loudly. In the old house at sunset, it is already colorful. Fat cat hanging under the wall, eyes closed, motionless, just "meowing", is considered a shallow reaction.
My heart is tight, and the cat is old. It has lived in this family for more than ten years. Mother's shadow is printed on the old wall, and the mountain wind passes by, and the shadow shakes with it. This is an old man who can be blown down by a gust of wind and can be used as a note for his dying years. Go to the city for a while. I'm trying to convince my mother. She raised her face, a thin frost was messy in the evening breeze, and there was something turbid in her eyes that could not be cleaned for a long time. She suffered from eye diseases for many years, and her faint smile revealed the secret of her teeth. There is not much left, and her gums are clearly visible.
Compared with cats, mothers are older. She walked from one ravine to another and stayed there for more than forty years. City dwellers her age are dancing square dance and playing Tai Chi to support their lives, while she, my mother, has to tenaciously support a lonely life. What a miserable life this is!
I have to see an eye disease and add a whole tooth. After several persuasion, I couldn't bear it, but my mother had many reasons to refuse. She can't worry about two pigs, six chickens, several warehouses of grain, several piles of firewood, bacon and so on. These troubles can be solved. I can ask someone I can trust to take care of me. I comforted my mother. Cats won't get used to it. She made up her mind and looked around the old house covered with smoke and dust. She threw a word lightly, a nest of gold and silver is not as good as her own mud nest. I can only joke that you are worried that others will take the old house away.
It is not difficult to imagine how long and difficult it is to convince an old man in the countryside. The mother used her old age to bring her son into middle age. I don't know why. She is deeply rooted in a square inch of land. She will wither if she moves a little. This old house that she has been in and out for decades, how can she leave her for ten and a half days?
My mother should be from a scholarly family. My grandfather was a gentleman before liberation and wrote a handsome little letter. My grandmother's ancestors are all rich families, and there are many farmhouses, including three-inch golden lotus. After the turbulent years passed, my grandfather became a farmer and my grandmother tiptoed to the ground. When my mother came into this world, life was particularly difficult. In a big family, survival comes first. My grandfather is a husband and has no time to teach his children. My mother can only read 100 words, but she has learned the skills of suffering.
When I was a child, my father was clean and the only wealth was the old house left by my ancestors, which was empty and dark. Until a few decades later, there are still some memories related to the old house in my mind, like a dark cloud that cannot be melted away. High steps, high thresholds, dark roofs, dark walls, uneven ground, and a portrait of Chairman Mao hanging on the nave are warm and compassionate.
Even in such a bad reality, my mother married without hesitation. She has a pair of hard-working hands and an extremely firm heart. At the end of the people's commune, parents should work hard to earn work points and go out early and return late. I want to look after my home, because of hunger and fear, my memory is very deep. Normally, children aged three to five have vague memories, but I am an exception. I stay in front of a dark old house all day, often hungry, and kind passers-by occasionally enjoy half a sweet potato. The gloomy and terrible scenes of this old house keep emerging in the young mind. I can only resist feebly.
When I was almost six years old, my mother began to build a house. The old house has been in disrepair for a long time, and it is no longer sheltered from the wind and rain, or it is fed up with trivial matters between neighbors and deliberately avoids it. My uncle is a famous senior carpenter. He wants to help his brother. My grandfather came from dozens of miles away with two barrels of grain and hoes. My father borrowed some money and food from a wealthy family, invited various craftsmen to build houses, and entered the implementation stage.
I'm so happy that I can finally escape from the old house. I had to do my part, so I became my mother's helper, picking up sawdust as firewood and holding chopsticks gently. My mother was happy and secretly rewarded me with a piece of fat meat. /kloc-in the winter of 0/982, we finally moved into a new house without doors and windows. It was particularly cold that winter, and it snowed early. I was so cold that I jumped around the room, but my heart was particularly warm. My parents plan to send me to school in another spring.
The earthen tile house is warm in winter and cool in summer, with wooden cloisters and diaojiao buildings, showing national customs. New fruit trees have been planted next to the house. In spring, peaches and plums are in full bloom, bees are flying, butterflies are flying, and flowing streams and ditches bypass houses, leaving a sweet spring and coolness. Today, I can't find another spring. It is so sweet and feels at home.
The days of staying at home are getting less and less, so I have to study. The road between home and home is getting longer and longer. When going out, my parents stared at the rice fields for a long time, and the shadows and reminders became blurred. The earthen houses were still clear, and the yellow-brown walls were mottled.
The color of the wall is very heavy, but it can't compare with the life of the mountain people.
If you can't get to the expressway, you have to take the narrow path. A man can never leave his hand when he hits a pestle. People in the city don't know what a pestle is, but only know the capital T. The meager output has to be sold to the foot of the mountain in exchange for the necessary means of production, and then it is returned, and there is not much surplus. If someone at home studies, they will be stretched to the limit. My father was crawling on the mountain road with a bag of 50 kilograms of bicarbonate on his back when he came home for living expenses for the last time in high school. It startled him to hear that he wanted money. He was loyal to the land all his life and lacked the craftsman spirit. Every penny he earns is soaked with sweat, and every penny he spends should be used on the cutting edge.
Every holiday in school, you have to take part in all kinds of labor, which is more profound and effective than school education. Every time I hear my parents' sighs echoing in the dim old house and think of the hardships of the mountain people, I will immediately have the idea of running away. And this is exactly what the fathers expected. With their own hardships and humiliation, they drove their children out of the mountains to find a more dignified life. After several years, even though my labor skills have been abandoned, I still sincerely respect labor and people who live by it, even though they may not live a glamorous life. However, some young people, who hate labor, are ignorant and playful, make a mess of the good quality of hard work, which is really sad.
After all, my old house is lonely. I walked from village to village and interpreted my life in another way of working. My father was lying in the old land, next to a mountain road, a slightly lonely country road, and the occasional whistle broke the tranquility of the ravine. Only the mother staggered in and out of the wooden door, and the old cat followed.
There are more and more lonely old houses, and children want to live their own lives, or because of the squeeze of life, they have to leave a few dying old people, so that they can continue to ignite the smoke in their hometown and their homes will not be completely deserted. The old man imprisoned in his native land is just devouring loneliness in the desolate twilight, and there must be a sigh in the old house.
Thinking of the old house in the ravine, there are some lyrics floating in the computer. Shui Mu Nianhua sang about our old house.
In-laws' old house with small windows.
The sun shines in and tells me the sunset and sunrise.
The little tree outside the door is a gift of love.
You picked out cloth all day to install our windows.
My dear old house is lonely with you.
Life was a little hard then.
Love is our only wealth.
……
Honey, the old house is still in its original place
And where you are, only the happiness I remember.
No matter where I am now, I love you as always.
……