In my father's life, there were no touching legends and no remarkable achievements. In the ordinary world, there is only "rice, oil, salt, sauce and vinegar tea", but it is more delicious than ordinary people.
My father was a tractor driver before I was born. Of course, after I was born, he was also a tractor driver, but I don't remember seeing my father drive a tractor with my own eyes. The reason is that the ownership of the tractor was grandpa's before I was born. After my father got married, the tractor was taken back by my grandfather and sold soon. After I was born, my father went out to work 1-2 years, and also drove tractors for my boss. According to my father, at that time, Guangdong coastal cities were building everywhere and developing rapidly, which was a good time to make money. It's a pity that he didn't make a fortune and didn't take the opportunity to make a fortune.
It was also at that time that my father's driver's license was passed. I have seen my father's driver's license, which is almost as big as the current driver's license, except that the words were handwritten and the photos were posted. My father's picture is still closed. I can imagine my father driving a tractor leisurely with his eyes closed and humming.
As long as I can remember, my father has been a cook. He can cook a good dish. He can also create several recipes from time to time, and abruptly cultivate me into a little fat man who is weak and sick since childhood and weighs over 100.
At first, it was just seven aunts and eight aunts who wanted to hold a banquet and asked my dad to help the chef. At the back, not only the village, but also the village next door came to my father for help.
The kitchen is usually behind the owner's house or in the utility room. I went to see my father. There's not much space there. There is a large mud brick stove with 1-2, which burns briquettes. The fire is very strong. There are two large iron pots on the stove. A pot is stacked with high retort, and white gas keeps spitting. In another pot, my sweaty father kept on.
After the food was served, the people on the table ate and drank, while the father in the kitchen just drank beer, occasionally with a chopsticks and vegetarian dishes. Big fish and big meat's father just keeps asking me to eat. I am puzzled: "Dad, why don't you eat?" Father shook his head and smiled slightly wearily: "Your father and I smell of oil smoke. You need to eat more because you are too thin. " I kept eating with my head closed. I didn't find that my father, who was also thin and not very good, had more wine than meals three times a day. He is nothing like those chefs with white hats and big ears on TV.
In childhood, in addition to the rare meals cooked by my father, what is particularly rare is my father's treasure gun. My father made it himself. The barrel is made of steel, and the gun body is cut and polished by wood. Just like a real gun, it is long and heavy, but this kind of homemade shotgun is unprecedented in the village. I have to say that my father is really a "genius" and there is nothing he can't do.
Father's shotgun is naturally placed in a secret place that my brother and I can't reach. When the season is not busy, my father will take out his shotgun and check it at home from time to time, and my brother and I will involuntarily gather together to observe it carefully. One end of the barrel near the pinch plate is buckled on the wooden gun handle with iron wire section by section, and the other end of the barrel is polished and itchy. I really want to experience the feeling of shooting.
Father and Bo Er usually choose to go hunting at night. It is said that they have to climb several mountains and walk dozens of miles of mountain roads in one night. Father has a homemade flashlight tied to his head and a shotgun slung over his shoulder. His pocket was filled with small pill-like bullets and bags of black powder, while Bo Er was carrying a snakeskin bag and a big battery, so they went out in tandem until the two beams of light slowly disappeared into the endless darkness.
The next day, my father's "trophy" will be placed in front of the hall. Sometimes it is 1-2, and sometimes it is 10. They are all fat and bright rabbits. Their hair is not the legendary white hair and white hair, but gray or brown, slippery, and there will be pheasants and muntjac when they are lucky. These rare delicacies are naturally taken to the market for sale while they are fresh.
Occasionally, my father will bring back a rabbit, saying that no one wants the rest, or that the price is too low. It is better to treat our toothache. We jump with joy and are more excited than the New Year.
When I was in the sixth grade, my family built a new house and my mother went to Guangdong to work.
Father used the skills he learned when building a new house to build four bright miscellaneous houses on the left and right sides of the house. The two on the right are used for cooking and raising pigs, and the two on the left are used for making chicken coops and storing sundries. I was shocked to see two rows of miscellaneous houses symmetrical to each other. Except for the unpainted walls, the blank bricks and tiles are as good as some people's houses in the village. I can't believe this is my father's work. Even the bricklayers in the village praised my father as a talent.
The father I remember is great and has extraordinary wisdom. My childhood was very proud and happy because of my father.