I have never liked the homes in the county town, whether it was the previous one or the current one. Whenever I am in them, there is always a voice in the depths of my heart shouting that this is not home. Whether it is the beautifully decorated front area or this place with its own bedroom, there is always a deep discomfort. They are not even as homey as the weekends when I used to live in my parents' staff dormitory while going to school.
I am not someone who often feels homesick, but staying in this place makes me often miss the dirty and messy home in the village, where I haven't lived for many years. The water must have been broken for many years because they no longer live there and don't bother to fix it. This is also the main reason why I find it difficult to go back and live there alone. The feeling of missing home becomes stronger.
Home, it's the sausage bread I would run into the bread room and eat after school.
Home, it's the pig intestines my parents would buy after a hard day's work, sitting at the doorstep with steamed buns and soup, watching the street scene.
Home, it's the birds that wake me up in the morning after spending the night with my grandmother when my parents are out, and then my grandmother waking me up. Of course, there are also tofu pudding and pan-fried dumplings on the street.
Home, it's the braised chicken intestines my mom bought when I had a fever for no reason. Ha, that was the first time I ate chicken intestines, and I kept asking my mom what it was.
Home, it's when my parents wanted to be lazy during lunch and asked me to buy braised chicken intestines, and I had to ask the boss for more soup so that I could mix the cooked noodles in, making a simple and delicious lunch.
Home, it's where I stole money from my parents when I was young and got beaten up so badly that I couldn't get out of bed and go to school. My grandpa even scolded my mom.
Home, it's the room that I kept rearranging, using yarn to create an infrared effect during my teenage years, and hanging a small bunch of useless keys on each thread.
Home, it's the place where several of my dogs died. The flowers froze to death in the winter, and the yellow one grew very big. Once, because the rope was tied too tightly for too long, a groove was formed on its front leg, and the pink and white flesh was clearly visible. When I applied medicine to it, I touched its head and could tell that it was in pain, but it didn't bark or move around. It just twitched from time to time. However, a few years later, for some reason, it was killed by medication by my family. There were two puppies that were just born, probably two of the yellow one's offspring, and they fell into the pit toilet and drowned. We have had many dogs at home, and I burned a few pieces of popular toy paper money for some of them in the vegetable garden during Qingming Festival, and I also paid my respects.
Home, it's the bucket of cold water I would leave in the yard to soak in the sun all day during summer, and in the evening, I would bathe in it while looking at the sky. Oh, before taking a bath, I must sprinkle some floral water in the water because mosquitoes are annoying. Sometimes, I would also imitate what I saw on TV and pluck a few flower petals from the various flowers in the yard and sprinkle them in the water.
Home, it's when I would prepare dinner before my parents came back from work in the evening, and then we would eat together under the grapevine. I am amazed now that I had such cooking skills before.
Home, it's when my parents went out to work when I was a little older, and I was alone at home. At that time, my grandpa, uncles, aunt, uncle, and aunt-in-law would take turns calling me to have a meal. There was one time when I really didn't want to go, and when I saw my grandpa coming, I quickly hid in the closet, but I was still found.
Home, it's when we set up a stove in the house, and every time I cooked, I enjoyed the process of starting a fire.
Home, it's the several rounds of chess I would play with my mom before bedtime - Gomoku, Chinese checkers, and military chess. Although I always lost, it was very interesting.
Home, it's when I would stay up late at night and read "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer," "Robinson Crusoe," "Gulliver's Travels," "How Steel Is Made"... I was scared by the appearance of "Friday" and felt sad for Pavel's first love... Under the dim light of the desk lamp, that period of time may have been the time when I read the most books in recent years.
Home, it's when three of us would sleep on the roof during summer nights, watching countless stars until we fell asleep, only to be awakened by the rising sun.
Home, perhaps it means more to me than I thought.