Basket...

? Each generation has its own memories and stories of its own. The passage of time is inevitable, and those things that people have always used and regarded as their livelihood have become The best epitome of story. From the perspective of carrying baskets, I would like to introduce every detail about carrying baskets in my hometown, and at the same time express my praise for the working people in my hometown!

Speaking of backpacks, they are something very familiar and intimate to me. I have been in contact with backpacks almost since I was born. When I was a child, I called it a basket or a basket. In our place, there are many kinds of baskets, roughly divided into three categories. They are specially used to carry long crops such as pigweed or corn stalks. Those with a deeper longitudinal direction are made of woven bamboo strips. The ones that are not so dense are called flower baskets; those used to carry potatoes, soybeans or some granular objects are called dense baskets; those that are specially used to carry to the market are more delicate ones with smooth bamboo strips and no gaps between each bamboo strips, called dense baskets. Carrying a basket on one's back is generally used for shopping on the street.

More than ten years ago, backpacks were very popular in mountains like ours. Like pots and pans, they were an indispensable utensil for every household. They were big and small, bought on the street. , made by myself, of various types, the most commonly used ones are flower baskets and dense baskets for carrying crops in the fields. Almost every adult and child has one. Children aged five or six are sometimes not provided with preparations and clamor all day long. To carry a basket, sometimes they would ask their grandfather or grandfather to weave a simple small basket, and the parents would tie it with two cloth straps, so that the children could carry it up the mountain. Even if they only carried one carrot head at a time, the children would still be able to carry it. I was very excited. Sometimes I saw my brother and sister carrying more than me, and I refused to admit defeat. I completely ignored my age, and my parents had no choice but to pretend to be more. But I didn’t expect that the weight on my back would become heavier when I started walking. , sometimes sweating profusely, I have to grit my teeth and rest along the way and walk back, and I don’t dare to show off anymore.

Rural children have become the head of the family early, and everyone has a sense of responsibility. Life is not easy, and everyone wants to rely on their own labor to reduce the burden on the family. This sense of responsibility is innate, deeply rooted in the soul, and passed down from generation to generation. When I was still a few years old, my family couldn't even afford a backpack, and we didn't even have the land to grow bamboo. Sometimes we would cut wild bamboo from the mountains, and I wanted to ask my grandpa to help us make one, but my grandpa was too busy herding livestock to make one. We have no free time. It was very sad for us when we were young not to have backpacks, just like we don't have mobile phones now. The difference is that backpacks are used for work, while mobile phones are more used for entertainment.

The first basket I remember in my life was a discarded chicken basket from my grandma’s house. I originally put some soft grass in it so that the chickens could lay eggs in it. However, I later discovered that because the basket had an uneven bottom, it often fell on the chickens. When it jumped out, it was tilted, and when it tilted, it fell over, and the egg broke. So my grandma’s house no longer uses it to sit in the chicken basket. My mother uses two hemp ropes side by side to fix it on one side of the basket. I put the hemp ropes on my shoulders with both hands, and a complete small basket is placed on my little back. It was on my back, but this backpack was pitch black, because the outside of it was covered with sheep dung from many years ago, and it couldn't be removed no matter how I dug it. I heard the elders said it was because of the sealing effect, so I didn't care much at first. I followed my mother in a hurry, carrying various crops on my back. My shoulders were stretched out by the straps and there were many purple marks, but I didn't care about the pain.

? Later, my friends started to laugh at me, saying that this backpack was full of sheep excrement and chicken excrement. When we went to the mountains with them, my backpack was the ugliest. Gradually, I hated that basket more and more. I would rather carry it in a basket than carry it on my back.

When I was a little older, my mother went to the street and bought me a brand new backpack made by a professional bamboo fiber maker for 3 yuan. When I got it home, I couldn’t wait to carry it on my back to pull pigs from the fields. Forget it, my grandpa later made up several particularly exquisite flower baskets for us brothers and sisters. Those flower baskets have always been with us in our carefree childhood. Every day after school or on weekends, I would carry a small backpack and go to cut pig grass or lawn washers with my friends. Those days were very happy. The labor was exciting and made people feel that they had gained something every day. Until high school and college, I was still the same every time I went home during the winter and summer vacations. I dug potatoes and cut pigweed, and I couldn't do without the backpack.

The difference is that the backpack gradually became larger and more and more things were carried. 23 years passed like this.

I remember that every time I went to the fields to cut pigweed, I always went with my brothers and sisters. They were several years older than me, so their backpacks were naturally much bigger and more expensive than mine. Several pieces, they work very quickly every time, and the basket can be filled in a short time, and then they will continue to pile more on the top and tie it to the basket with ropes. At that time, we often ran around in some crop fields while carrying baskets on our backs, pulling some pigweeds and throwing them into the baskets. Gradually, there were more and more pigweeds in the baskets, and it became inconvenient to carry them on our backs. We would Put the basket on the ground, and go to the nearby ground to pull it out. When you estimate that the weight you pulled out is enough to pile up, you will bring it back one by one and pack it up. I remember one time, my sister put her backpack in the field of a Hui family. The Hui people had a bad temper and thought that my sister had ruined their crops. Without saying a word, they chopped up my sister's basket with a sickle. My sister was so frightened that she cried. They didn't dare to cry. Later, the man left, and my sister returned home empty-handed and sadly. I have been careful since I was young and always like to memorize a lot. At the same time, I also hope to be praised by my elders. No matter how heavy it is, I will carry it back, and I won’t let go of a handful of pigweed on the way. Maybe it’s because my persistence as a child slowly sharpened my will and made it harder for me to give up easily when encountering something.

In that era, the backpack was a symbol of a child growing up, and it was also the glory of innocent children as a labor tool, carrying their hope for a better life. Back baskets not only contain crops, but also people’s desire to get rid of poverty and live a good life. Each of its “bones” is engraved with people’s valuable labor quality and spirit.

I can also knit a backpack myself. When I was in sixth grade, I knitted one for my sister to carry. When I was a child, the basket on the back meant too many things. For the child, it also contained the love of the mother. For the mother, the basket on the back was the child’s desire and expectation. The basket on the back could not be empty, because that would make the child disappointment.

When mothers come back from the mountains, they often hide some wild fruits, freshly ripe sweet corn, and white and tender potatoes in their backpacks among the pigs and grass. Groups of brothers and sisters see the adults put down their backpacks. From time to time, they all rush up to pick it up and search for it. If they get what they want to eat, the children will dance with excitement. If they don't find anything, they will inevitably feel disappointed.

The mountains are far away from the streets. Compared with the wild fruits in the mountains, the snacks on the streets are more tempting. Children in the mountains generally have no chance to go to the streets.

On every market day, adults would carry market-specific baskets. For those who were more affluent, the baskets they carried were often new. Life was tight, and the bottom of the baskets had holes. Will add some more plastic skin. As soon as the adults went out, the children waited on their way home from the market. When the sun set, the mothers finally came back and gave the food in the baskets to several children. Everyone felt like they had found a treasure and were extremely satisfied. If the grains or eggs they sometimes bring are not sold, the mothers will naturally have no money to buy snacks for their children, and the children will not be able to smile on their dark faces.

In order to reduce the burden on the family, the children have been very sensible since they were young. When farming, they carry dung and seeds from home to the fields. After the crops are planted, they carry baskets all day long and follow the adults. , searching for hogweed all over the mountains and fields. In drought years, we have to climb several mountains a day, and the baskets are not full from morning to night. In the fifth and sixth months of the lunar calendar, it begins to rain, the crops grow luxuriantly, and there are gradually more pigweeds. However, it is also the hungriest time. The potatoes and corn in the fields are not yet ripe. There is not much food left at home, and the wild vegetables on the mountains are also scarce. It will become a delicacy. Fortunately, the wild strawberries on the mountain are also ripe. Every time you go up the mountain, you will not come back empty-handed. When the crops are ripe, the big guys are busy carrying the crops from the fields to their homes. We children would pick up what others had left after they had finished harvesting their crops, or pick up what others had missed. These collected things can be sold for money, so you can have some pocket money when you go to school.

On school days, every weekend or during winter and summer vacations, the path to the fields in the village is very lively. Adults and children take advantage of this time to work because there are so many people. Groups of working people carry bags on their backs. We walked on the mountain trails with large backpacks and small backpacks. Some carried weeds on their backs, some carried various types of grains, some carried children who could not walk in a backpack, and some led livestock and carried a basket on their backs. Everyone Talking and laughing, coming and going.

Inevitably, the days of carrying backpacks will gradually disappear. Our generation has gradually grown up, and many people have gone out to other places. The backpacks have gradually become a part of people’s memories. Nowadays, there are also small backpacks. It was a decoration specially carried by children for fun. The adults at that time are now getting older unconsciously. What replaced their backpacks are convenient tractors. People only carry the backpacks occasionally, and they only carry some food and clothes. .

Time passed very slowly at that time. In this small town where the fourth dimension is a mountain, it wasn’t until I took the high school biology exam at the age of 13 that I climbed over the mountain, saw the world outside the mountain, and entered the county town. At that time, people felt very happy and self-sufficient. A newly ripe potato or a bag of tender corn would make the children happy. This is the basket that inherently means a burden, and people are eager to carry it on their backs. There is a new backpack every day, and it feels like I am carrying my entire life. The backpack is beautiful, and it makes working more exciting when carrying it, and it also makes me look more dignified when I carry it. Carrying a basket carries food, sweat, a family's living expenses and children's tuition fees.

Today, the backpack carries a period of time that cannot be returned, a history of labor full of wisdom, and a unique and beautiful time.

I would like to dedicate this document to the hard-working working people and to my relatives in my hometown! ***Mian! !

? The seventh day of April in the Year of Wuxu

? Author: A thousand-year dream!