The old house I lived in for 2 years is going to be demolished, so I moved into a rented house, a blank house on the first floor and a concrete wall. After simply paving the floor in the bedroom, I moved in. Most of the people who moved in together were old things, and I couldn't bear to throw them away. I always wanted to put them in a corner together with my memories.

I lived just one month before the Mid-Autumn Festival.

The rented house is far from the street. When you leave the south gate of the residential area, you will reach the Huihe Dam in Guzhen. In this small town in northern Anhui, it has almost become a place for people to walk in the morning and evening. A person moving while working, from the beginning of running around, bored, too busy to appreciate, to the present incomparable love. I look forward to coming back after work, closing the door, living in a humble room and drinking tea.

Although it is the Mid-Autumn Festival, a large area of land outside the window is still lush, and there is no sound in my ears. I don't like the excitement, as if I have found the habitat of my soul, especially at night, where there seems to be a kind of loneliness.

After finishing cleaning up the rough house, the fatigue of moving gradually faded, so I hurried to visit because I was worried about my mother.

My father has been away for four years, and we sisters, whoever is free, often go home to have a look.

My mother lives with her younger brother's family and looks after her little nephew in the third grade, which brings her a lot of laughter. When my father just died, I moved to my mother for a month because I was worried about her. I chatted with her every night and listened to her talk about my father's past. My mother finally came out slowly from the great grief of her father's death, and gradually had a smile on her face.

Every time I visit her, she can't help mentioning her father, while I listen quietly.

The day before yesterday, I went to my mother's house after work. The old man looked very good. He asked me if I was tired from moving and whether I was busy at work. When I left, I forced a bottle of bean paste made by her, telling me that there were peanuts in it, so I could take it back and eat it slowly.

After my father's death, my mother has suddenly aged a lot in recent years. She always bends over when she walks, and her hair is almost white. As usual, my mother turned on the light on the stairs when I went out and told me to be careful on my way home.

Go back to the rented house, open the bean paste made by my mother and dip it in steamed bread. Night infiltration, delicious food, full of home flavor.

The heartstrings struck the still time, which made me fall into the lake of memory ...

I was born in the old street of Chengguan Town, Guzhen County, Bengbu City, Anhui Province in the 197s, and eating pickles is still my constant favorite, and the taste for decades is incomparable.

In my memory, when I was a child, pickles that I always ate at home were pickled with spicy vegetables, while bean paste made of soybeans was later.

Guzhen was founded in 1965. When I was a child, I often heard my mother talk about it. When she and her father just founded the county, they obeyed the arrangement of the organization and came to Guzhen.

My mother used to work in Huaiyuan County Hospital, and my father was an officer in Huaiyuan County Government. When my parents and my two-year-old brother first arrived in Guzhen, except for the old street, almost all the places were empty, and there were no houses. My mother said that the first home I lived in Guzhen was a grass temple, and the wall was reinforced with thick mats. At night, the kerosene lamp smoked my eyes, so my mother put a lampshade outside, which was much better.

In my impression, this kerosene lamp was still in use when I moved to the old sports ground in Guzhen. In 1984, my family moved to the new sports ground on Guzhen No.2 Road, and I also saw it in my father's old collection.

In that era of material scarcity, almost every family had many children and a heavy burden. Because the family was poor, it was enough for adults and children to have enough to eat. Unlike today, there are so many stresses on eating, and the recipes matched by nutritionists are delicious and attractive, which is in line with the perspective of health preservation.

In my memory, when I was a child, I ate meat once a week, and there were very few vegetables. The impression of the food market is vaguely remembered that on both sides of the road just entering the old street, the old residents of the old street spread out packing bags for holding food on the ground, and put their own vegetables on them, which were scattered sparsely. At that time, it should be called a market. My mother took me and bought rice from there. I remember clearly that it was forty cents a catty.

forty cents a catty of rice is only after the days get better.

My mother has repeatedly said for decades, that is, the earliest egg is two cents, pork is eighty cents, and mutton is ninety cents. In 1984, I lived in the new sports ground of Guzhen No.2 Road. The watermelon I ate was 5 cents a catty. It was big and sandy and yellow, not to mention how sweet it was.

even these two-cent eggs, my mother said that she was poor at that time and had other expenses at home, so she was reluctant to buy them. She occasionally bought them several times and left them for her brother to eat. When I arrived, fortunately, my mother kept several hens for laying eggs in the yard behind the new sports ground, and my sister, brother and I didn't miss eating eggs.

authentic earth eggs, sometimes fried and sometimes fried by mother, are full of love.

The old sports ground where I lived as a child has now become a bustling commercial gold street, with no traces left. But the past of those years will always unfold inadvertently, and at every quiet moment, I will be reminded repeatedly by myself ...

I have no impression of the vegetables I ate as a child, but the only thing that is engraved in my heart is the pickled vegetables that I have to eat at home all year round.

The home of the old sports ground is now Xintiandi Financial Street, Guzhen Road 1. At that time, our family was divided into three tiled houses by the county sports commission. Because grandparents were there, there was not enough room to live in. My father built three thatched huts in the front yard and surrounded them. In this way, there were two yards in the front yard. My father built a brick fence with several kinds of flowers in it. I can't remember the names of the flowers. It seems that the walls have climbed over vines. Outside the wall is the sports ground, with green grass all over the ground, and two basketball courts built by mixing salt with mud. In the era when there was no TV, the sports ground at that time became the only entertainment center in the county, and it was very lively every evening.

Later, my father paved the front yard and the back yard with cement. The front yard was used to park the wooden cart and the only black bicycle in the house. The back seat was large and strong. My brother and I are both young, and my father will take us to play when he goes out from work. At that time, there was no special seat for children. My father held his brother on the big beam of the bicycle and sat sideways. And put me in the back seat.

At that time, the sky was blue, the clouds were light and the wind was light.

Our backyard was much bigger than the front yard, and two kitchens were built. At that time, it was called a pot house. One is an open type, with a fire-burning pot and a sealed box, and the chimney is connected to the outside. When I was a child, I liked to see smoke from the chimney at home, which meant that it would be time for dinner soon, and I was so happy. The other room is a formal kitchen, with a small dining table, several small benches and a long wooden bench. Because there are many children when eating, the dining table is too small to be crowded, and there is always a child sitting on the edge, who has to stand up and eat enough food. Later, when there was a little money at home, my father bought a big square table and put it in the living room, which was not used much at ordinary times unless there were guests at home. During the Chinese New Year, my grandparents were with us, and the whole family was sitting there, having a grand dinner. I, a little girl, loved the Chinese New Year, and I always felt that I could sit tall without eating pickles that day, eating meat casually, and not having to stand up and reach for it.

It was many years before my mother told me with a smile that I couldn't take care of my children because I was busy at work. Once it rained lightly, and it was almost time to finish the meal at home at noon, only to find that there was no me. Mother hurried out to look for me and picked me up under the big tree in the sports ground.

The pot house in the backyard doesn't occupy too much space. The most striking thing is a well in the center of the yard and a large water tank next to it. Outside the backyard is a small lake. At that time, there was no running water, so everyone drew water from the well to drink. There is a hole in the wall of the backyard, just like the sewer now. At that time, washing clothes, cooking and washing vegetables, the remaining water flowed out from there.

Watermelon in summer, my father made a big net tied with iron wire. The rope was very strong. The watermelon was soaked in well water for a long time, and when it was pulled up, it became an iced watermelon. It was cool and delicious.

But what I like best is the big water jar. It is a vegetable basket at home all year round, with a happy childhood.

In the big water tank, my mother pickled pickles that I especially like to eat until today. Pickled pickles are commonly known as "Xuelihong". I don't quite understand the origin of this name. I thought to myself, in the poor years, there was nothing to eat in the snowy winter. Only this dish I ate made the name so festive.

As soon as parents arrive in autumn, they start to get busy. They pull back the spicy dishes with carts and pickle them for a year. What kind of wild spicy food my mother bought, as for the difference between spicy food in peace, I have never asked.

I only remember that in autumn, when my parents were not at work, they pulled the scooter out early in the morning. When I came back, my father pulled it and my mother pushed it. We children waited at home. When the scooter arrived at the door, I happily helped my mother push it. Buy wild spicy vegetables, open them in the backyard, cut off the roots, remove the yellow leaves little by little, wash them with water in the well for several times, and then air them. When the water evaporated and the leaves faded a little, they began to pickle.

Mother seems to have no chance with pickles, because on several occasions, all the hot pickles pickled by her mother's hands went bad. Since then, all the pickles at home have been cooked by her father.

On the day of pickles, when my parents were at home, I was so happy that I watched from front to back. At that time, my brothers and sisters went to school, and my younger brother was young. My parents always took my younger brother with them when they went out, but they were too busy at work to take care of our two brothers and sisters. At that time, there was no kindergarten, so they often locked me in the house alone, and I waited for them to come back from work.

after being locked at home for several years, I always move a small bench by myself, sit quietly in the yard, look at the picture books my father bought me, and look up at the sky, feeling that the sky is so blue and the clouds are so white.

After the washed spicy dishes were put in order, my father began to pickle them. Go back and forth several times to wash the big water tank before pickles. Put a layer of wild spicy vegetables on the bottom of the tank, sprinkle a handful of coarse salt particles on it, and then put a layer of vegetables on it, and hold it tightly with your hands; Then put a layer of wild spicy vegetables and a handful of salt on it. Repeat this way back and forth, and a large jar of pickles will be cured. Father finally pressed a big stone on the big water tank, covered it with plastic cloth, tied a circle of rope around the edge of the tank. After a while, when salt water comes out, my father will wash the sharp green peppers and put them in, and together with the spicy dishes, they will become delicious food on the table in the future.

In my memory, when I was a child, I didn't eat any fresh vegetables. In the morning and evening, it was pickled pickles in a big water tank. At about noon, my mother fried vegetables, but I really can't remember it until today.

When the spicy dishes are pickled, my father always takes a few out of the water tank and lets my mother fry them. Mother first prepared a few slices of ginger, poured some oil in the pot, and when her father heated the pot and fried the ginger slices, she quickly put the cut spicy vegetables in and stir-fried, then put the green peppers in, and when it was almost out of the pot, she poured in a few cloves of garlic, and then came out a few times. Eating spicy food is always steamed by my mother, soft, white and sweet. Steamed buns are made from the big aluminum pot at home.

besides the earthen pot, when I was a child, coal was often burned at home. Mother is steaming steamed buns on the coal stove, which is very big and has a strong fire, and can put four pieces of coal at a time. I remember that when I was very young, there was no lump of coal, but I bought loose coal home. I often saw my parents sweating together, using a shovel and coal in the back yard, then shoveling the reconciled coal with a shovel and putting it in the coal stove to burn. Before going to bed at night, I poked a hole with a stove hook, then tightened the lid of the stove below, and then opened it the next morning. Later, with briquettes, parents no longer have to burn with coal.

When I was a child, there were no snacks. Only during the Spring Festival, dumplings, leaves and small fruits would be fried at home, and my mother would buy us 1 yuan of fruit candy. I usually eat pickles every day, but I can't get enough. There are many people in the family, and steamed buns are eaten quickly, so my mother will steam steamed buns after a while. When I play in the sports field with my friends for a long time and run home with joy, my mother will let me wash my little hands and hand me a steamed bread just out of the pot, which is full of sugar. The smell of hard biting is still lingering through time and space.

in order to improve the taste, my mother made dough buns on the floor pot after the rest, and my father was responsible for burning firewood. The hair mask is so scarred that you can eat it all without even putting sugar and pickles.

besides steamed steamed bread and hair mask, people who eat with pickles are pancakes. When I was a child, there was a hollow for pancakes at home, which bulged out. Mother used a rolling pin to knead the dough on the panel, then rolled it into a thin round and put it on the concave. What is burned below is a fine fire, sometimes with small pieces of wood, and sometimes with wheat pulp specially sent by relatives in my hometown. When flipping pancakes, mother rolls them and turns them over. There is a small wooden stick next to the concave, and the mother picks it back and forth lightly, and the pancakes are cooked quickly. Often, without waiting for dinner, I will pick up one and roll the spicy food cooked by my mother into it. I can't wait. And my brothers and sisters sometimes eat with relish with salty peppers.

many years later, at this moment, I soak in a cup of chrysanthemum tea and let my thoughts get out of hand.

The smell of pickles permeates the time, and childhood seems to have never left. The beauty in the time has infiltrated the past life and latent in my heart.

As soon as the Qingming Festival arrived in the second year, the pickles in the big water tank began to dress, and the salt water began to turn white. At this time, it is necessary to fish out the spicy food that has not been eaten and make it into a moldy dish for the summer. Wash and air the hot dishes, and cut them into small pieces. First, brush the pot clean, pour well water, add ginger slices, peppers, star anise and peanuts, and cook it together with the cut spicy vegetables. Generally, the fire starts at 5 pm, and there is not much left at 8 pm. First, my father pulls the bellows, uses a big fire, and then simmers slowly with a small fire. When the time comes, the firewood will naturally go out, cover the lid and stew for one night, and take it out to dry the next day. When my family is a little better, my mother will cut a piece of pork belly and cut it into Queena Ding, and put it in the pot to cook dried vegetables, as well as dried skin that I usually can't bear to eat.

The cooked dried mushrooms were put on the chopping board bed to dry the next day. When I was a child, the chopping board bed was the four thick wooden sticks nailed with nails and climbed with thick ropes in the middle. The chopping board bed is covered with a thick mat, and the dried vegetables are placed on the back of the thick mat to dry in order to breathe. Put the pork belly in the water to cook the dried vegetables, wait for a day, and put the dried vegetables