Steamed buns prose

Recalling the scene of a family steaming steamed buns when I was a child, that expectation, that harmony and happiness seemed to be reflected in front of me, which made me memorable and fascinated.

I remember that many people were steaming steamed buns on the 25th and 6th of the twelfth lunar month. Some families can be a few days earlier or a day and a half later. We plan to steam steamed buns tomorrow, and we will be busy in the evening. Under the command of my father, we used a small bucket to fill the big tank that was running out of water until the water overflowed the ground. On that day, burning kang was more particular. First, heat it with tall cotton stalks and corn stalks, and then put a big cage of wheat bran simmer kang under the wheat field in the south. Heat the kang, or it won't be hot in the middle of the night, and the kang won't get up naturally if it's not hot.

Parents are the most worried and the hardest on the congenital night of steaming steamed bread. Get up in the middle of the night and continue to ferment noodles first, that is, give a small pot of round fermented noodles and continue a lot of noodles, and then put them on the hot kang to let them continue to be pushed out. These noodles must be started at dawn, otherwise it will delay the steaming time.

Mother is always the first to get up at dawn. When she finished washing, the first thing she did was to see if the noodles had started. If they were started, she happily ordered all of us to get up quickly and boil face washing water for us at the same time. Fold the quilt, pack the kang, carry it to the small table for steaming rice cakes, and put it into the nervous and orderly steamed rice cakes.

Mother is very careful and well planned. She always steamed some steamed buns with grates first, and then steamed Chinese New Year steamed buns for our breakfast. We are eager to eat this breakfast, because the hard and yellow corn steamed bread we eat all the year round makes our desire for white and empty wheat flour steamed bread stronger. Although we didn't eat anything there, only a small dish of spicy oil, it was our extravagant hope to eat these white and fragrant Chili buns. "White steamed bread with pepper, a crescent moon in one bite." My father watched us eat greedily one by one, and always said this sentence sweetly and happily, which has not changed for many years.

My mother knew when I steamed Chinese New Year's steamed buns. She can steam dozens of steamed buns and as many horn buns as she wants. The custom of paying New Year greetings is very particular. Generally, when an elder "goes out" (pays a New Year call), he should bring six big buns and two horns, and the elder will leave four big buns and two horns. It is impolite for elders not to let people carry empty cloth bags home. Later, I think this is also the expectation of the elders for the younger generation, that is, the affection of the younger generation has always been there, more than every year. Relatives who pay homage (usually for the younger generation) only bring four steamed buns when they go, leaving only two for the younger generation. This expectation is the same.

It's time to steam steamed bread. We all have tasks. Father kneaded the dough, and we made a small piece of dough to imitate his appearance. Knead the noodles well, and after mom passed the inspection, mom began to make those big buns and horns. Mother's hands are very dexterous, as if they were magic. Three times and five times, it becomes a small flower big steamed bread, smooth and angular. Unwilling to lag behind, we often imitate our mother's appearance to learn, but those same doughs are always out of our hands, and the big steamed buns and horns are always crooked. But what I got was praise from my parents, and the voice of happiness kept coming. When a relative's children want to finish lighting, the mother always forgets to make a pair of "mouth" buns, which are shaped like a fish, but their eyes are inlaid with two big red dates. The child with the light has bright eyes and a beautiful heart. Finally, my mother hasn't forgotten to make a pair of fish buns, and we are not allowed to eat them at the moment. They are always hung high on the kang canopy, indicating a good wish for more than a year. Until the second day of the second lunar month, you can't eat the fish buns that have been opened.

Steaming steamed bread and boiling pot are very important. At first, it was burned with a big fire, so that the buns were all swollen and white and empty. When the fire reaches the balloon, it will burn the pot with a small fire. We call it "swimming pot" here. In about half an hour, the steamed bread will be ready. At this time, it is more particular to open the pot. First, leave some blue carbon and small carbon in the furnace and put them by the pot, which is said to ward off evil spirits, and then start to uncover the pot. We looked at the pot with bated breath, and when we saw that the steamed bread was blanched, the room was filled with happy laughter. Occasionally, when things don't go well, a few steamed buns in the head grate don't appear and turn blue. My mother always mumbles with a livid face: "There you are-the steamed white steamed bread is ready, you eat first, and let the baby send you some money." Hearing these prayers for ancestors' blessing, we dare not go out, but we are stingy and sneak out of the house one by one.

We haven't steamed Chinese New Year buns for many years. My wife bought dozens of New Year's greetings buns in the steamed bun shop yesterday, saying that they were one piece and six pieces, which were very expensive. However, the scene of steaming steamed bread in childhood, as a fleeting past, was deeply imprinted in my mind, especially the happiness, harmony and expectation for a better life in the new year, which made me fresh in my memory and fascinated.

Second, the small pond of childhood

"On the banyan tree by the pond, cicadas are calling for summer ..." Hearing this beautiful song, I seem to have returned to my happy childhood, and my thoughts are flying along the tunnel of time by the pond of that haunted childhood.

When I was a child, the pond was not far from the village. It may have been built because of drainage. The villagers call it a reservoir. This pond is small, rectangular, ten meters deep, less than fifty meters wide and several hundred meters long. At the southern end of the pond, there is always a pool of clear water. Every summer, when it rains heavily, the water spreads to the north, so that the "sea" that our northern children dreamed of when they were children is formed.

Every spring, poplars and elegant willows by the pond grow a piece of new green. We are looking forward to the spread of this new green, because then we can play in the water and see the "sea" in our dreams. After school in the afternoon, we all came to the pond with our little white goat. There are many young grasses by the pond. All you have to do is nail the iron pestle tied with a long sheep rope to the ground with a small brick, and the lamb will quietly and greedily eat his tender grass. At this time, the pond is full of excitement: in the warm sunset, calling for friends, a lively boy and girl's children, continuing the unfinished game at school, causing spring birds on poplars and willows to dance and show off their crisp sounds. The most unforgettable thing is a kind of grass all over the pond, which we call Maojian. In early spring, young hair tips grow to more than an inch long and are everywhere. You can pull them out and put them in your mouth. Sweet milk will make your mouth full of fragrance. We ate while pulling, and finally when we were going home, we didn't forget to pull another one and give it to our grandparents, parents to taste. It was inevitable that we would be praised for a few words of comfort.

Summer, summer vacation. The small pond became my childhood paradise. At noon, my parents are working in the fields. How can my grandparents look after our cunning children? I don't know who blew a loud whistle, but we all came to the pond like we got out of the ground. Without considering the pedestrians on the road, I took off my fig leaf and plunged into the clear water. A swimmer, who dived for more than ten meters in the water, suddenly poked his head out of a place and was praised by his companions. Those who can't swim are not to be outdone. They flapped their wings in the shallow water on one side and kept trying and moving. No, a companion hasn't moved for a long time and was attacked by a diamond cow. The long black bull got into his half thigh. He found out and hurried ashore, crying and howling. Experienced companions beat hard with the soles of offshore shoes, and soon the bugs came out. Everyone smiled with relief, and the victim also smiled through tears. What is more interesting is to have a water fight. Several companions are the United States, and we are China. Of course, China people are resourceful and fearless. Everyone wears a wicker hat for camouflage. After several fierce battles, the final result was of course China's victory. We cheered with excitement and couldn't help slapping the water with our hands. Even the cicada in the tree and American companions can't help but join the exciting cheers.

The small pond in autumn has a special taste. That pool of autumn water is like a mirror, calm and transparent; Also like the eyes of boys and girls, pure and deep. Occasionally there is a breeze blowing, sparkling and rippling. When we came home from school, we were herding sheep, too. At this time, herding sheep is far less easy than spring and summer, because the grass is not all so green, so we have to let go of the sheep rope and let the sheep freely choose the tender grass to eat. When the sheep are free, our responsibility is even greater. No, just as we were having fun, two rams got into a fight. Before the war, the legs that struggled to stand up straight, the corners of the eyes that were ready to deal with or attack at that moment, and the eyes that revealed anger and unyielding, all made people shudder. After the war, then you won't accept me, and I won't make your brave and dignified posture more scary. Fortunately, it was found in time, and the older companions grabbed the sheep rope and pulled it open. Otherwise, it is inevitable that one of us will be scolded by adults when we go home. One of our companions is injured.

The most interesting thing about the small pond in winter is that it has passed the winter solstice. At that time, there was a thick layer of ice on the pond. After school in the afternoon, we can go skating secretly. For the arrival of this day, we don't know how many times we have come to the pond to explore. When winter comes, there are always a few older companions who come to the pond and try it gently on the thick ice. When the ice is not thick, people step on the ice, and several cracks spread in all directions with a gentle groan. With a nervous "no", the experimenter hurried out. We had to retreat to the shore of the pond in boredom, or ignite the weeds around us with matches to keep warm; Or use it as a thin bamboo pole to wear, pick up some green poplar leaves as trophies and take them home to feed the sheep. After the solstice in winter, ice can naturally make people float. Companions, big and small, came to the pond to skate together. First, smash the thick ice with bricks on the edge of the ice, take out a small piece and give it to each skater. The partner who gets the ice cubes will step forward with one foot and push hard with the other. You can slide forward as long as you have a good balance. A low-skilled companion will inevitably fall down after slipping for a short time, but no one will be discouraged. They just smiled, got up again and continued their previous actions. Although the northwest wind howling in winter, although our faces and hands are red with cold, the unique skating complex of rural children has already turned those cold into bursts of laughter and filled the lonely small pond in winter.

Although the memory of childhood has been far away from me for decades, the small pond has also been transformed into watered fields when leveling the land, and lush crops have grown up, but the childlike interest, happiness, innocence and harmony it left us will always be remembered in my mind and become my unforgettable memory.

Third, high school.

Harvest friendship

I graduated from high school in July 1980. When I think of those things in high school, the memory of that fleeting time seems to be yesterday, and I have a special taste in my heart.

At that time, there were few bicycles. My home is nearly four kilometers from my Jiaoxie Middle School. Every Wednesday after school, several of our male classmates go home together. If one bike can carry one, we will ride home. If there is only one car, we can only share joys and sorrows, even if it is pushed by one person, we must walk home together. What's this called? This is called friendship. This is called sharing weal and woe. In fact, most of us are "if there is only one car", and this scene is still fresh in our memory. That kind of pure affection and sincere friendship is still warm when I think about it now.

I remember that my family was very poor at that time, and all we ate at school was corn flour steamed bread. If it is winter, sweet potato will become our delicious food and the main food to satisfy our hunger. "The winter wind blew my tears with snowflakes." The extremely cold weather made corn buns frozen like hard stones, and no one wanted to touch them when eating them. If you want to eat, it will be a white stubble, full of the cold of virtual killing. At that time, in order to solve the problem of boarding students' meals, when boiling water in a large pot in the morning, several layers of cages were put on the pot for boiling water, so that students could put their sweet potatoes in net bags and steam them in large cages. Steamed buns can't be scalded, and the big cage is limited. After school, when steaming sweet potatoes, we took off the marked net bag, drank steamed sweet potato water and ate steaming sweet potatoes. That smell, now that I think about it, is still unforgettable.

When eating, we fully implement the capitalist system. Whose steamed bread is corn flour mixed with a little wheat flour, and whose steamed bread is eaten after eating at last, then there is no cold and hard pure corn flour steamed bread to eat. Sometimes, I eat more than a dozen steamed buns in three days and only eat a few when I get home. My mother asked inexplicably, "Do you only eat those?" I laughed at myself: "Sweet potatoes are delicious. I eat sweet potatoes all day. " Once, my mother steamed many steamed buns with corn flour and wheat flour. On the way, I showed off and said, "We have something delicious again, two stirs." The students are also grinning, as if eating the "Er Jiao" steamed stuffed bun I took. The next morning, after school, I took out my own steamed buns and gave one to everyone. Unexpectedly, when I opened it, there were fibers inside. It turned out that my mother didn't pay attention and somehow mixed cotton in the noodles. We had to throw the steamed buns aside angrily and eat other steamed buns in frustration.

Our main course is a mixture of pepper, salt and some pickles. Anyone who spilled some oil was robbed. If it were autumn, our life would be better. There is a clearing in the southeast corner of the school. In that small clearing, I don't know who planted white radish. When eating, we asked a classmate to steal one or two radishes there secretly, washed them with water, peeled them with a knife, processed them into thin strips, and mixed them with some peppers and salt. They were delicious.

There are still many things in high school in my memory. Although it is bitter to think of, it is full of sincerity and friendship, happiness and interest. Now our friendship continues. On the difficult journey of life, we help each other and help each other. The sincere friendship we gained in high school will always be the best memory in my fleeting memory.

Between men and women

When I was in high school, the boys and girls in our school didn't talk in front of their classmates, which was a convention. I still don't understand the origin of this agreement. But it still smells when I think about it today.

We are all students in seven or eight different junior high schools in rural areas, and it is the same dream that brings us together. In junior high school, my boys and girls were together. This is really a guess. Fighting all day, sometimes even boys and girls can't tell. Sometimes several girls hold a boy to the corner of the classroom, grab his hair and pull his clothes. There is nothing else between men and women, which makes people feel inexplicable nostalgia and yearning.

But in high school, we will do as the Romans do. Boys and girls in the same village are all playmates in the village, and some are even inseparable childhood friends. But when I came here, I was a stranger. On one occasion, I didn't come home on Wednesday. The female classmates in our village brought me something. She was walking on the platform. As soon as she put it away, she shouted, "Whose things? Come and get it. " I went to my seat. That look, that look, has a feeling that we are innocent at once. As soon as I saw that the small flower pocket belonged to my family, I quietly took it off the platform. I think we are all children of the same age, living only a few families apart. Every summer vacation, we pick grass for pigs. Most of the time, she helps me pick the grass and I help her transport it. Pure friendship can be learned from the sun and the moon. I can't help laughing.

Another time I studied by myself, my oil pen fell on the side of my deskmate. I didn't ask my deskmate to answer it for me directly, but deliberately said loudly to the gay man in front of me, "Normal University, it's time to go to bed in this class." "What's the matter? Are you sleepy? " "Hey, I dropped my oil pen." I pretended to be helpless. Hearing this, my classmates bent down and made great efforts to pick up my oil pen from under the table and put it in front of me. Fortunately, that female classmate is generous, otherwise I really can't finish my homework on time. Really going to be scolded by the teacher. Later, I learned that she cared about me and cherished the friendship between her classmates. It's just that the unwritten agreement makes us seem distant. However, more than ten years later, some students revealed many secrets. At that time, several pairs of students in our class were secretly in love.

This happened more than 30 years ago. Now that I think about it, I feel very funny and interesting. Later, at the class reunion, we boys and girls got together and spoke freely. Sometimes he even showed a few "arrogant" actions and behaviors, and everyone laughed it off. That kind of friendship, that kind of relief, that kind of openness and licentiousness have added infinite fun and charm to our lives. But the routine memory of high school is still deeply imprinted in my mind. Although it may be meaningless, at least we will remember, at least we still have memories.