Du Binqiang's Works: Cutting Wheat

Father and mother got up before dawn.

when the wheat is yellow, get up early, and hurry to harvest. Harvesting wheat is the most important thing for parents in a year and can't be delayed. Mother is cooking in the kitchen quickly, and the sound of tinkling on the chopping board; The sound of my father carrying water from the village entrance, pouring well water into the water tank, and grinding the sickle blade on the grindstone are extremely loud in the empty summer morning. Often at this time, it is the most sleepy time for me. My mother is an impatient and loud voice. I can't stand sleeping in in such a yellow day, so I yelled at me several times in the kitchen and lost my patience. I went into the room and dragged me out of the bed.

I rubbed my awake eyes and muttered, with a hundred grudges in my heart. Although I don't want to get up, I know in my heart that I dare not be lazy in the weather of harvesting yellow wheat. Slowly, I ate a few mouthfuls of rice, drank a few mouthfuls of soup, took the kettle filled by my mother, and went to my responsible field with my parents in the dawn of summer to start a day's work.

Mai Huang's morning weather, the air is fresh, and I feel a little cold in my light clothes. There is no other sideline in the family, and more than ten acres of wheat is the main livelihood of the family. Most of the wheat fields at home are on sloping fields, and along the dirt roads in the mountains, I hurried all the way and soon arrived at the wheat fields.

at this time, the sky began to light up, and the east was a fish-belly white. The wheat field was golden and the heavy ears bowed their heads. When the wind blows, the mature wheat rustles. From a distance, golden wheat waves come and go, which is really beautiful. Mother's work, like her temper, was hot and crisp, and soon she was working in the fields. Compared with mother, father is obviously a slow-witted person. He took his time and walked slowly around the field, as if enjoying a beautiful picture scroll and enjoying it. At this point, the mother doesn't like her father, and she scolds her father while working. My father was not annoyed, no matter what my mother said or how harsh her tone was, he stood at the edge of the wheat field and was as affectionate as a poet. After enjoying it, my father began to show the true colors of a good wheat cutter. He rolled up his sleeves, raised his sickle, tied his horse, and wherever the sickle went, the wheat fell in his arms obediently. Before long, the wheat cut by my father has caught up with or surpassed the wheat cut by my mother.

cutting wheat is a hard work, but also a technical work. More than ten acres of wheat at home must be stroked from the hands of father and mother. They will not let a single ear of wheat be left behind or wronged, just like raising their own children. Every year, when the wheat is cut, my father and mother are tanned and can shed a layer of skin. After cutting wheat for a long time, the cat's waist was tied, and she was already sleepy. She dared not rest more, straightened up a little, paused, and quickly continued to harvest with a sickle. Although my mother is a good wheat cutter, compared with my father, her advantage is that she has good endurance and seldom takes a rest. The advantage of father's wheat cutting is the perfect combination of strength and skill. I saw him go down with a few sickles, and the ears of wheat fell neatly in his father's broad arms like obedient children. The stubble behind my father is as clean as a knife, and I can't find a scattered ear of wheat on the ground.

Wheat cutting is a technical job, which depends not only on whether he has dropped ears, but also on the two processes of beating his waist and binding wheat. The so-called waist beating is a term used by rural people when cutting wheat. The word "waist" is very vivid, that is, cut a handful of wheat, tidy up the ears of wheat, then divide them into two halves, cross and twist them a few times, and the "waist" of wheat will be done. This is definitely a stunt. A few years before I learned to cut wheat with my parents, I always couldn't learn it. Every time I hit my waist, it was always reversed. A bundle of cut wheat would fall apart. A few sickles go down, and a big bundle of wheat is cut. Put the cut wheat on the waist, and then tie it up. Compared with beating the waist, the technical requirements of binding wheat are stricter, which requires both strength and skill. My father is definitely the top master of this technology. I saw that he clenched the twisted waist at both ends with his hands, his knees pressed against the wheat, and his hands exerted force in the opposite direction at the same time. When his strength was exhausted, his father twisted his waist three times and two times, and the scattered wheat was tied. The wheat tied by my father looks geometric and firm, so there is no need to worry about scattering. In the few years when I was harvesting wheat, I humbly asked my father for advice, and my father showed me seriously, but I haven't mastered this skill until now, which is a great pity in my heart.

When the wheat harvest is in full swing, parents seldom talk to each other. They don't care if I cut the wheat, as long as I'm not idle in the field and working. Of course, I am young and sensible, willing to learn to cut wheat, dreaming of becoming a good worker like my parents and gaining their affirmation in my work. Now think about it, this is also the happiness and happiness of rural children's growth.

it is cool to cut wheat in the morning, but the efficiency is not very high. The sun is rising high and getting hotter. The parents' foreheads were covered with sweat, and the clothes on their backs were wet. I was afraid of the sun, so I couldn't stay any longer. I sat on the wheat sheaves lying on the ground, only drinking water, and I didn't have any spirit. Finally, my mother couldn't stand it anymore, scolded me a few words and sent me back to boil water to cook.

I couldn't wait to go home. I ran like crazy all the way. While nobody was in charge, I slipped to the apricot tree behind the village and had a good meal of apricot. Children in rural areas cook in metropolis, and I am no exception. Boil the boiled water, cook the eggs, cut the onions and cucumbers, mix them well, and wait for your parents to go home.

It's almost past ten, and the sun outside is like a brazier. My father and mother haven't come back yet, so I can't help turning on the TV. Just when I was watching it excitedly, my mother yelled and began to scold me, thinking that I would stay in the house and enjoy myself. How dare I talk back? I quickly turned off the TV and went to bring food to my parents. Mother looked extremely tired, and her face tanned by the sun was covered with sweat stains. Father was in better spirits, took off his straw hat, sharpened the blade of sickle and talked to his mother, planning the recent summer harvest at home.

After dinner, my parents didn't take a long rest, then they took their sickles and went on cutting wheat in the fields. While the weather is fine, grab more than ten acres of wheat in the ceded land. When it is rainy, the wheat will suffer, and the achievements of the family will be discounted. I often hear my father say that wheat cutting should take advantage of the good sun. The stronger the sunshine, the higher the efficiency of wheat cutting. At noon, the sun was poisonous, and my father knew that I couldn't stand the sun, so he asked me to feed the cattle at home. My mother looked at the sun, and without saying anything, she acquiesced that I was at home.

in my memory, the sun that harvests wheat every summer is always so fierce, like a fire in the sky. Stay in the mud house at home, comfortable and cool. It doesn't take much to feed the cattle. But I was lying on the kang, thinking about my parents cutting wheat in the sun. I couldn't sit still, so I poured cold water and went straight to the wheat field.

harvesting wheat in summer is a race against time. Almost all the laborers in the village, facing the sun and sweating, rushed to cut wheat in the wheat field. In such a time when longkou is grabbing food, no matter who it is, it will never dare to be lazy. At noon, the fields in the village are busy. When I came to the edge of the field, I saw my father and mother wearing straw hats and towels around their necks, sweating like rain in the sound of sickle cutting wheat. Behind them, there are bundles of wheat tied and crawling in the ground. From a distance, they look like lovely children falling asleep in the sun. Cutting wheat at noon, although sweating like a pig, my parents are in a good mood. They are talking and cutting wheat, and my mother's hearty laughter spreads far with the hot air. Parents' good mood comes not only from cutting down wheat bales behind them, but also from the sense of fulfillment and accomplishment in labor.

after half a day, I was really tired and too hot in the sun. At noon, my parents came home in a hot air. When I got home, my father cleaned up the cowshed and did the broken work. My mother took a short rest, washed her face and started cooking. This meal, my mother did very seriously, not careless at all. Cutting wheat is hard work and consumes a lot of physical strength, so I can replenish my strength after eating enough. I am also sensible, helping my mother to cook the pot and fill the boiling water. After my father grinds the blade of the sickle, my mother also cooks the meal. During the summer harvest, parents eat more than usual. Father couldn't help himself, eating noodles with a big porcelain bowl, putting enough oil and pungent seeds, squatting in the shade outside the house, and chatting with his neighbors while eating.

soon, my mother tidied up the house, shouting loudly at my father who was chatting with his neighbors outside, and hurried to work to cut wheat. It's hot in the afternoon, but it's windy, and it's also a pleasure to cut wheat. Throughout the afternoon, looking at the wheat bales lying on the ground, the scene was spectacular.

In the evening, when night falls, my mother leaves the wheat field, and she has to go to the alfalfa field to mow the grass for the cows at home. Father still has an important job to do, that is, to gather the harvested wheat bundles together, which is a farm work that requires skills. In the words of his hometown, it is to pile wheat. The harvest weather is changeable, and the rain will come. Stacking wheat is an effective way to prevent the cut wheat from getting wet by the rain. In the twilight, I gathered bundles of wheat from the ground, and my father magically piled up bundles of wheat like a magician. Stacked wheat piles are durable and breathable, and can also prevent the ears of wheat from getting wet in rainy days. Soon, the wheat bundles scattered in the original field suddenly turned into several handsome wheat piles.

when my parents came home, it was already dark. They ate and drank something, sat in the courtyard and had a good rest in the evening breeze. When the whole body cooled down, my father began to sharpen the sickle edge on the grindstone again, ready to take advantage of the moonlight and cut another piece of wheat with my mother.

When I slept in a daze, I woke up to hear my father and mother coming back from the fields and walking around the yard. At this time, the summer night is refreshing, the sky is full of stars, the night is like water, and the night in the country is so beautiful and quiet!