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The Small Farmer's Complex in the Post 70's
This land she originally loved desperately, but did not realize she loved it, as if she loved her mother's face in the light of evening prayer.

"The only thing in the world that lasts forever is the land, that you have to remember! The only thing in the world that is worth hustling for, worth fighting for - worth fighting to the death."

-- "Gone with the Wind"

The deep-rooted small farmer complex that I hid in my bones was originally my deep attachment to my native land, which was often overlooked by myself.

? The childhood I for farming is abhorrent, always secretly swear like the father generation so face to face the soil back to the sky of the bitter life I can never repeat, parents also repeatedly urged us to study well out of the house, looking forward to our forever out of this land ......

? The father often warned us siblings, who do not study well, who will come back to take over his "big six buckets"! The "big six buckets" is my family a piece of the largest area of cultivation, in our village it is the largest, so called "six buckets".

If a family with a laborer gets this piece of land, it's a celebration, but my father, who was not very good at farming, had a hard time with this "big six-double". Because it is too big, and so my father turned the ground just after the water, the same village people's rice seedlings are growing a huge piece. Rush in the double shot season, in order to catch up, my father will ask the folks to come over to help my family to play special strike.

? Every time at this time, the family is like going to New Year's Eve to prepare food for hospitality. On the first night, my mother and my sister-in-law would kill chickens and ducks, and make a big skip full of dumplings or soup dumplings for the next day. When it was time to eat and the workers returned, the house was filled with laughter. There were aunts and uncles I hadn't seen in days, aunts and uncles from next door, and my father's longtime friends, who would stay at my house and chat until late after they finished their farm work, as if they were at a party. So the impression I got from my childhood was that it was a great feast for friends and family to get together.

? However, after the reform and opening up of the country, people in the village went out with the boom of working people, and there were not many relatives and friends working at home, so it was hard to find people to help, but the "big six" still had to be plowed.

? For the "big six-dou" harvest, my father had a few proud and a few helpless, my father looked at the stacks of rice stacks filled with ridges, tired and shouted: "I do not want it, who wants to carry it who want it!" It is said that since then, "big six buckets" no more that year's bumper harvest, the father repented of "big six buckets" is a spirit, can not talk nonsense.

? The magic of the "big six bucket", even its drainage ditch is a treasure bowl general existence, that inside the loach simply inexhaustible. Every summer vacation, old brother in the "big six bucket" in the drainage ditch dug out several buckets of loach, the days of the dinner table is always slag loach, braised loach rounds, the old brother even invented a loach soup, can not eat all the loach to put it in a bucket, pouring salty salt salted into the dried loach, listening to the loach in the bucket struggling to jump the sound of a little cruelty and a little bit of harvest! The sound of the loaches struggling and jumping in the bucket, a little cruel and a little joy of harvest, indescribable shivering.

? With the development of the times, people are happy to make people worry about the "big six buckets" in our family completely degenerated into an unattractive burden. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to get the best out of it, but I'm sure you're going to be able to get the best out of it. I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it.

? That day, I went to the field to deliver water, to see the third uncle alone in the transplantation of rice seedlings, I pulled up my pants legs and jumped to try. I was so happy to see you, and I was so happy to see you, and I was so happy to see you, and I was so happy to see you! I was so shocked that I screamed in disgust, and my deaf uncle heard me and laughed, saying that cow dung didn't stink and it didn't matter. I forced to endure the nausea, change a place, pick up the rice planting handle, follow the example of Uncle Sam, the dashing fell into the water, slipped the edge began to insert rice seedlings, a few operations will feel very interesting, looking at a slightly neat seedlings, I am pleased with the heart overflowing, what is so great? Unexpectedly, the elbow side a little itchy, I took a hand to scratch, oh my God! It's soft again! A leech! It sucked deep into my flesh! Goosebumps fell all over the place! My father came over and said, "If you don't study hard, you'll get the big six-pack"! I crawled to the shore and never learned how to plant a rice plant again, and I don't want the "big six buckets" at all!

The last time I saw my mother die, my family's "big six" was still yellow and orange, and my father and brother were out on the road. My sister-in-law is worried about my family's harvest. She said that if the rice is not cut down, it will be more difficult to cut it when the roots fall down! I looked at the sad face of the sister-in-law, all of a sudden feel that I'm a proper receiver is not the time to go out?

? I followed my father's example, pulling together my "contacts", to the nearby village to find students to help me cut rice, very grateful to these students, when they were children, none of them refused me. Now I think of it is really ashamed, when one by one they pulled up their pants, bare feet ready to go down to the ground, I was still on the way to wear rain boots, my mother as spoiled my sister-in-law personally took them to the field, leaving me lazy and stupid at home to cook! This is how I missed my last close encounter with the Big Six.

In the end, none of the three of us took over the Big Six, which has now been split into two and does not belong to our family anymore.

? The old home has long said goodbye to manual farming, everything is mechanized, everything has changed, everything is changing, and I, the birth of my deep love for this piece of land but more and more strong .........