Essay on Memory Prose of The Old House

The old house is old and vicissitudes.

It has been here for nearly 70 years. It was my dad who spent 3. Danes bought this abandoned Zhuang base, which is 100 meters long and 16 meters long. It is said that quadrangles were to be built in those days, but due to the unstable situation, panic and great economic pressure, only eight big houses were hastily built for temporary residence. He said that when the situation improves, he will be able to continue construction economically. Who knows that this residence is decades. Raised our five sisters. The mansion is a civil structure with poor wood. In addition, the Longhai Railway is next to the village. Trains travel frequently, and the ground vibrates greatly all day. After several years, the walls of the courtyard and the foundation of the house have been shaken. But because it cannot be repaired, it has to collapse year after year. Although shabby, the mood of Zhuang people is still relatively calm and optimistic.

The yard is spacious and divided into a front yard and a back yard. There are people and animals in the front yard. There are tung tree, pagoda tree, Chinese toon tree, elm tree, peach tree, willow tree and a grape trellis. Summer is covered with green shade, which is refreshing and pleasant. There are often turtledoves, iron crows, magpies, cuckoos, sparrows, woodpeckers and swallows in front of branches and eaves. Especially in summer, groups of sparrows gather in the acacia trees in the yard, chirping and chirping. There are rockery flower beds near the east wall, including Chinese rose, Chinese rose, holly and oleander. In spring and summer, butterflies can be seen flying, and there is an atmosphere of "spring in the courtyard" and "birds and flowers". The backyard is a clearing, and the northwest corner is a big pigsty built with stone fences, with jujube trees and mulberry trees next to it. The rest of the clearing was turned into vegetable fields by my father. Pepper, pumpkin, tomato, eggplant, green onion and other common vegetables are planted for their own consumption without selling money. However, it is easy to grow vegetables but difficult to water them. Most villagers get water from Guan Jing outside the city gate, so my family must get water from Guan Jing. After school, our sisters often help my father dive and water the vegetables, often making my back ache and my legs ache! So my father made up his mind to dig a well in the Western Wall. Unexpectedly, it took a lot of effort to drill, but it was a sand bottom. Although the water potential is relatively strong, due to the inability to use brick hoops, the bottom of the well continues to collapse, threatening the safety of the house and having to be filled in. Helpless, the backyard was replanted with saplings. The seedlings of paulownia, elm and poplar are mainly planted, and they don't need to be watered often, so the survival rate is high and they can be sold at a good price. Finished products can also be used to build houses.

Although the old house is not as good as the hall of the rich family, it has brought a lot of fun to my childhood after all.

In spring, we plant flowers and grass in the yard, fight chicken and hide-and-seek, play under the grape trellis, listen to the crows of chickens and dogs in the village yard, help swallows build nests under the roof beams, pick mulberry leaves for spring silkworms, climb trees to hook Sophora japonica, save money, tie the caught mice to Xiaohua Mall's tail, and let the cats turn around like gyroscopes in the yard ... It's really fun.

In summer, we set up loungers and small dining tables in the shade to enjoy the cool, read and write, and secretly pick peaches and immature sour grapes to eat. When the room is sultry at night, I set up a bed board in the yard, spread a mat, lie on it and watch the moon, count the stars, recognize the constellations, watch the meteor shower, and listen to my parents' stories about the cowherd and the weaver girl. After a while, fireflies came, one in the east and the other in the west, flying around in the air like countless small lanterns. We couldn't help scrambling to catch them, and often accidentally bumped into trees or walls until we were hit black and blue and screamed. Because the family is still doing the mill business, scouring and drying wheat every day, sparrows naturally become frequent visitors at home, and we can't get rid of them, so we shoot them with slingshots. My slingshot is very accurate. I shoot ten sparrows every day. Feed the sparrows that have been laid down to the greedy big cats, and sometimes they will be wrapped in yellow mud and secretly burned behind adults' backs. That taste is really delicious.

When I overheard cicadas singing lazily in the treetops, I knew it was autumn. Especially at noon, cicadas keep singing, which is as harsh as downtown. There are cicadas singing at dusk, and the sound is intermittent and rhythmic, which has a sad taste. The adults said, "Autumn is here, and the end of cicada is coming soon! So his voice is particularly bleak. " This makes us feel the sadness of autumn. We often climb trees to collect cicadas and catch cicadas with cobwebs. In the evening, I touched the cicada that had not returned to its shell in the bushes. As long as my eyes are bright and I can touch it accurately, I can touch a big bag without much effort. Put it on enough paper in the house, and after a night, all the shells are removed and become winged adults, killing two birds with one stone, which is very fun. Cicada, also known as cicada slough, is a traditional Chinese medicine. Adults say it has the effect of dispelling wind, improving eyesight, relieving sore throat and resisting shock. We managed to find it, overcharged it and sold it to make up for the lack of tuition. Of course, there are times when I accidentally meet scorpions and centipedes, so I have to admit that I am unlucky.

In autumn, my old house is also the world of crickets. Cricket can be heard everywhere in the cracks in the wall, in the grass and under the tile, so catching and beating cricket has become a pleasure. There are many kinds of cricket, which are divided into general, top grade and super grade according to their size. In order to find a high-quality variety that can fight and bite, I used a flashlight to expose bricks and tiles everywhere, dig a wall and dig a hole, and made the corner of the yard messy, and was often reprimanded by my parents. Catch cricket, one is to learn from each other between partners, and the other is to sell it to cricket vendors in the city and earn a few pennies to buy "pear paste sugar". Deception is always inevitable. Vendors often pay us little money for first-class crickets according to inferior varieties. By the time we understood, the sly guy had slipped away.

It was winter, the weather was extremely cold, generally around minus 15 degrees, with a lot of snow and a long popsicle hanging from the eaves. Our children are not afraid of the cold. They make snowmen, have snowball fights, skate and eat popsicles in the yard. Or like Lu Xun's leap soil, sweeping a clearing in the snow, setting up a big bamboo screen, scattering chaff, tying it with a rope and catching sparrows is both mysterious and happy. In the evening, my mother sat on the hot kang, lit an oil lamp, surrounded a charcoal basin and shook the spinning wheel. While helping to peel corn or cotton, we listened to my father's stories, telling serial stories, solve riddles on the lanterns, reading "Preaching and Teaching to Solve Confusion" (a book to persuade goodness), reading operas or telling Confucius, Poems, Primary School Rhyme and Disciples' Rules. When I was a child, most of my enlightenment education was learned by listening.

As the year is approaching, besides cleaning, the most important thing is to kill pigs. Every year, in addition to collecting and selling the pigs, one or two pigs are left to be slaughtered, a small amount is reserved for the Chinese New Year, and the rest is distributed to the villagers. The day we killed the pig was the day we were most surprised and scared. First dig a pit in the backyard, set up a large iron pot on it, fill the pot with water, and boil the water with firewood. The butcher who killed the pig was uncle Luo Guo invited from another village, nicknamed "Knife". Although this man has been doing the dangerous work of killing pigs and sheep all his life, his expression is very kind. Although he is a Romanian, he moves quickly. He has never stabbed a pig twice. I saw a young man suddenly hooked a big fat pig eating at the head of the trough with a sharp iron hook and pulled it in front. Another guy grabbed the pig's tail, put it down on a wooden stool in the screams of the pig, and was held down by several people. At this time, Uncle Luo took out a sharp knife, dipped it in the bucket, quickly slapped the pig's neck twice, and suddenly stabbed the pig's heart with a knife. The pig screamed at the top of his lungs, and with the gradual decrease of blood flow, it gradually faded down until it was motionless and was carried off the stool. This horrible and cruel scene, we saw it completely from far away, from the gap between our hands. Then the pot was cooked and the hair was burnt. Three times five divided by two, a big fat pig with glistening skin hung upside down on the beam. Then there is the heartbroken belly, divided by parts. Uncle Luo Guo's division skills are really as fast as experts. A fat pig, alive and kicking an hour ago, suddenly turned into a hundred pots of delicious food, life! It's cruel.

Times are changing, and so are old houses. After the baptism of history and the erosion of years, eight crumbling houses have been tenaciously supported until the end of 1970s, and finally completed their mission. At that time, my father had passed away. Under the auspices of my mother, eight luxury houses were demolished in the old house, and three low-rise houses were built in the middle of the yard, so that my brother could get married and start a family. Because I work in other places and seldom go home, my sisters get married one after another, the land is reduced, and there are no livestock and large farm tools. My mother and my brother are really the only ones left at home, relying on a limited few acres of responsibility fields to maintain a poor but decent life. Compared with the past, the old house has shrunk obviously, and the original flowers and trees in the yard no longer exist. Every time I go home, there is always a feeling of desolation. Especially after my mother died, this feeling became stronger and stronger. All the impressions of the old house in childhood can only be left in the depths of memory.

After the reform and opening up, the rural economy has turned around and brought hope to people's lives. People in the village have built new houses or small buildings. The three rooms in the old house, like an old lady in her twilight years, look low, narrow and shriveled. Both parents are strong-willed people. Building a big house has always been their lifelong wish. Until the next life, they all feel extremely sorry for not leaving a decent family business for their children. This is deeply felt as their son. In order to fulfill their parents' dreams and prevent them from continuing to regret in the underworld, they decided to rebuild their former residence after consulting with their younger brother. When the economic capacity basically allows, this wish has finally come true, and a two-story building with modern brick-concrete structure (including basement) has finally been built on the original site of the former residence. There are four porcelain walls at the entrance, a spacious balcony in front of the building, and ten steps of lime at the entrance. Commanding, broad vision, the courtyard door is a clearing, planted with all kinds of flowers and trees. Although it is not the hall expected by parents, it is also a magnificent scenery in the village. This is also the glory of our parents, but also our former residence to add color to future generations.