Drinking father

Father is a farmer who digs in the soil and gets rid of residue, so he is doomed to drink no good wine all his life.. But my father doesn’t seem to care about the quality of the wine, as long as he can drink it, that’s a lucky thing.. So even if it is a poor quality sweet potato in bulk, my father will drink it with relish and delight.. So my father’s words were like the box door of a reservoir, ” wow” opened with a loud voice. On the table of the poor peasant family, there is a strong bouquet and warmth of affection.     When I was a child, I knew my father liked drinking, but from the beginning to the end of the year, my father did not drink many times.. At that time, our family and children suffered many days, and our parents often taught us to break a penny into two halves.. As a father who is the mainstay of his family, he has reduced the expenditure on drinking to a minimum. Father seldom goes to the supply and marketing cooperatives to drink, except for the holidays or guests at home.. Sometimes relatives and friends send a bottle of cheap white wine, and the father always dances happily like a child, as if what others give him is not ordinary wine, but Mao Tai Wuliangye and Hu Zhou Laojiao.. The wine was placed in the kitchen like a baby by his father and began to flow in fine water.. When my father came up with his wine addiction, he took a small cup of wine and tasted it. It was like the fragrance still rippling in the bitter days..     The mother never had to worry about his father getting drunk, because his father drank too much alcohol, and he never drank five cups of a small handleless wine cup with big bull eyes.. I remember my father was quite happy when he drank wine. He usually did not drink cold wine, but poured some wine from the bottle and put it into a white bowl.. Then he struck a match with a loud scratch and struck it at the edge of the wine bowl, where a tiny blue flame sprang up. When the wine in the bowl was hot, father blew out the flame and poured the hot wine into a small hip flask to warm it. Father is always slow in drinking, and a meal does not last for an hour.. The mother who had eaten at this time always sat there with a calm and happy face, listening to her father’s nagging about trivial and unimportant household words. Gradually, father’s dark rough face became ruddy and vivid. He took a sip of wine and a bite of food, as if this were the taste of happiness. A cup of turbid wine and a few bowls of small dishes were enough.. At that time, the farm’s dining table was very poor, and the Tao was a clever woman who could cook without rice. Even when her father was drinking, her mother would fry a plate of eggs or peanuts at most.. However, this kind of coarse food made father happy and energetic.. Now that I think about it, it was the most luxurious and happy time in my father’s life. That little bouquet moistened my father’s hopes and dreams?     After leaving my hometown, I haven’t seen my father drinking any more, but my mind often flits over the manner of my father sitting at the square table of the heatable adobe sleeping platform, which may be one of my deepest impressions of my father..     But the hard-working father didn’t drink any good wine, but it was always a place where his children felt guilty and uneasy.. Three years ago, my niece came to the southern city where I live, and when she returned, I bought two bottles of good wine for her niece to take to her grandfather. Soon my father made an exception and called from his hometown. My father said that the bottle of wine was dozens of dollars in size and he could not bear to drink it. He gave the wine as a valuable gift to a client’s relatives … Ah, put down the phone and my tears filled my eyes. I felt sad for my farmer’s father and heartache for my father who drank inferior wine.. In my memory, the person I respect most is my parents. Now the mother has gone by crane west, and the lonely and elderly father has been drinking less because his eyes are weak. even if he drinks, it is also the low-cost and strong – smelling old white fever..     Sometimes I ponder in my heart whether my thrifty father owes himself too much? But the father in life is quite content and happy, as if his happiness comes from his simple and poor life. Aware of this, I was a little confused, as if the father who drank wine was a mystery that prevented me from going deep into his heart.. But I still wanted to buy some good wine and return to my long-lost hometown. I sat cross-legged at the square table of the heatable adobe sleeping platform and had a few dinners with my old father who had passed the age of flower armour.. I think that the strong bouquet will overflow from the depths of the years and from the once difficult country life, and let me thoroughly understand how a humble country father came from the bitter and difficult days.. 1390 words