The old house in memory

Yesterday was Saturday. We went back to our hometown. Because my parents have long planned to repair the roof of my hometown. The rainy season is coming. If it rains overnight, the furniture and utensils in the house will be damaged and the whole roof will be broken.

My parents are old, and after repeated persuasion by my wife and I, they finally agreed to live in the city and not go back to their hometown. But the house in my hometown has become my parents' biggest concern.

The first house in our family was built by my grandfather for my father. There are many brothers and sisters in my father's family, and my father is the boss. At that time, my family had a hard time, and grandpa and dad worked hard for a living all day. In those days, hard work was cheap, and the only reward was to feed and warm the family.

The new house my father built when he got married was in my grandfather's front yard, and the homestead was borrowed by my second grandfather's house. The homestead is so small that only three houses can be built. A room, a bedroom, a room for storing food and sundries. The main body of the house is adobe with red bricks on the surface. In our hometown, it was called table brick house, which was very popular at that time.

In my impression, the doors and windows of the old house are very small, and the room is very dark. When I do my homework after school in the afternoon, I will move a small desk, do my homework in the yard and finish my homework before dawn.

The room is not big, just opposite the door, there is a set of square tables and chairs made by my father, which occupies half the room. There is a yellow cupboard on the left side of the room, which is divided into upper, middle and lower floors. The top two layers are inlaid with glass, and the bottom is a small cabinet with two doors. The door handle is a yellow glass ball, shaped like a pumpkin, with some small red flowers in it, which is very beautiful.

According to my mother, this is the favorite furniture she got after begging her father many times. Usually spotless, the window is bright and clean. After school, the first thing I do is to open the cupboard and look for food. In my impression, that small yellow cabinet is the burial place of the treasure, which is very attractive to me.

On the east side of the hall is the bedroom, which is very small. A large heatable adobe sleeping platform occupies most of the space, leaving only a narrow aisle between it and the wall. If you walk down from the heatable adobe sleeping platform, you will bump into the wall. Mother loves cleanliness, and the bedding on the kang is always flat. Without a wrinkle, I lost the opportunity to play on the kang.

There is no decoration on the wall of the bedroom, but a picture is posted next to the bedroom window. There is an ancient maid in the painting, holding a lute in her arms, and her nepotism is very beautiful.

I don't remember the house on the west side of the main hall. It was used for storage. After the autumn harvest, my father and uncles carried bags of grain and put them in my father's brick granary.

I spent my whole life there until I was eight years old. The house is not big, but it is much happier. The room is not big and full of happiness. In this small yard, I said the first sentence and took the first step in my life. The house and yard are full of laughter that I crawl around and have fun with my parents.

When I was eight years old, my parents bought a homestead in the south of the village and built a new house before we moved out of the old house. After we moved out, Mr. Zhong's family wanted to take back the homestead, and the old house was demolished immediately. The old house containing all my childhood memories has become a ruin and a clear and vague existence in life.

The new house has been built. Grandpa is too old to help. Everything is handled by his parents. My parents built a house for the first time, of course, it was a big deal. They did everything with their own hands and did their best. They did their best when the economic conditions allowed.

My father bought bricks and lime for building houses from hundreds of miles away. The reason is that other people's bricks are red, positive and strong. The most important thing is that red bricks and white seams set each other off and look good. Purlins and girders are made of pine, which is the thickest and straightest on the market. Brush with tung oil and put it in the room. It has always been strong.

My father is a teacher. He has been teaching in the village for ten years and is very popular. When our house was built, many villagers came to help, and our parents were happy from ear to ear. At that time, contracting was not popular, only technicians were hired to build houses, and odd jobs such as mud, bricks and ashes were all helped by villagers. There was a lot of help at that time.

During the days when the house was built, my parents hardly slept and worked tirelessly all day. Later, my mother said that her blood pressure went up after building a new house, and she is still taking medicine.

A few days later, the new house was built and five bright north houses stood there. I wandered around the room excitedly before the smell of bricks and dirt dispersed in the room.

We moved in before the courtyard wall was built. At that time, our home was in the southeast corner of the village, and there was no house in front. The view is very broad. When we lie in bed, we can see large tracts of crops, which are green and beautiful.

The house built by my parents accompanied and witnessed my growth. When my sister and I went to school, all the awards we got were posted in the hall, and the walls were all red. Every time a guest comes home, my father always lets the guest watch it for a long time.

When I got married, the courtyard wall of the house was built, but it was not painted. My father and I set about whitewashing the courtyard walls and laying floor tiles in the hall. The tiles that used to be laid on the floor in the house are now laid in the yard. After the completion, the whole yard is much cleaner and neater.

My parents are getting older and older. I don't trust them to live in their hometown and want them to come to the city to support the elderly. Every time my parents are reluctant to build a house by themselves. All the doors and windows used to build this house, as well as the furniture later, were built by my father himself. Even so, I spent all my parents' savings at that time. Every brick and tile of this house embodies the hard work and sweat of parents, and every piece of furniture and window is full of parents' deep complex.

My wedding and the birth of my son were all completed in this small courtyard. I am also full of affection for this house, and I don't want it to collapse with the years.

The workers spent a whole day repairing the roof to ensure that it would not leak rain for ten years. Looking at the serious expressions of the workers and the newly renovated roof, I feel comfortable from the bottom of my heart. This feeling is no different from watching someone close to you put on new clothes.

People can move and drift, but old houses can't. It will stand silently in memory, standing in time, making you think of it from time to time inadvertently, and then sigh.