Chapter 41
Monday morning, the electrician arrived as promised.
Qiao Wei was just waiting for him.
Yan Lei had specifically instructed Qiao Wei about some of the current unspoken rules. When the master arrived, Qiao Wei had already prepared tea and cigarettes for him.
Some jobs that would be considered very ordinary in later generations were very precious at this time. For example, electricians, drivers, and almost all employees of the Supply and Marketing Cooperative, including sales clerks and purchasing agents, etc.
This was truly a characteristic of the era.
Seeing that Qiao Wei had prepared everything that needed to be prepared, with cigarettes and tea ready, the electrician didn’t dawdle and efficiently got the job done, running wires to the toilet and installing a light bulb there.
The light switch cord was installed just outside the room door. At night, coming out from the room, one could reach back and touch the light cord for the toilet. With one pull, the toilet light would turn on, and there was no need to be afraid anymore.
Qiao Wei specifically told the master: “Master, please install one with a higher wattage.”
The electrician glanced at her, a bit surprised. Because others would only say “Master, install one that’s a bit brighter.” Qiao Wei mentioned the wattage directly.
After installing it, the electrician said: “Your husband is really generous.”
He felt that that military cadre really knew how to cherish his partner.
Because men usually wouldn’t request to install a light in the toilet; such a request was obviously proposed by the woman of the house.
Qiao Wei said: “It’s only used when going to the toilet, it won’t consume that much electricity.”
The electrician laughed: “You sure know a lot.”
Even knew that the unit of electricity is kilowatt-hours.
Qiao Wei: “?”
After chatting with the electrician, Qiao Wei realized that at this time, electricity bills were not calculated by usage. Household electricity meters didn’t even exist yet. A family’s electricity bill was charged based on the number of light bulbs.
This method was called the “fixed-bulb system.” It counted your light bulbs. Each 15-watt bulb cost 15 cents a month, a 25-watt bulb cost 25 cents a month, and a 40-watt bulb cost 40 cents a month.
Qiao Wei thought that since the light was used for a short time, she assumed it used little electricity. But in reality, it didn’t depend on usage; it was a fixed monthly fee.
Really, then why bother with the whole family reading in one room at night to save electricity?
She didn’t know, but Yan Lei definitely did. Things like the household electricity bill were managed by Yan Lei.
But thinking about it, it was probably just that this generation had a mindset of thrift and frugality in everything they used.
A characteristic of the era.
The toilet light was finished just past ten o’clock.
Qiao Wei brought down the mung bean soup she had been boiling all morning and set it to cool in the basin of the hand-pump well. She took out the two types of homespun cloth she had bought at the market—indigo and natural color—folded them into a woven basket, and led Yan Xiang out.
There was a Craftsman Alley in town. Those who relied on their skills to make a living, like shoe repairers and tailors, were all in this alley. Nowadays, there were no individual entrepreneurs; everything had long been merged into public-private partnerships and consolidated under the management of the Town Committee Office. Everyone was part of an organization or a work unit.
Qiao Wei found the tailor shop and described what she wanted to have made.
The Old Tailor was an old man; he pushed up his reading glasses and asked: “What is this for?”
Qiao Wei said: “It’s for leaning your back against.”
The Old Tailor laughed: “I thought so too.”
Qiao Wei smiled: “I bought a cooling bed, placed it against the wall, and I want to make three cushions to use as a backrest.”
The Old Tailor said: “That’ll be just like a sofa. Comfortable.”
Qiao Wei’s eyes lit up: “You know about sofas.”
“Heh, how could I not?” The Old Tailor pushed up his glasses, “I was an apprentice in the provincial capital when I was eleven; I saw sofas in the homes of wealthy families back then.”
People get talkative when they get old; he seemed ready to open the floodgates and talk about how prosperous the big city was. But he moved his lips, then held back and closed them.
He was an old man who had seen the world. But now, one couldn’t reminisce about that so-called world of the past.
Qiao Wei smiled, didn’t ask more about the past, and only asked: “With the remaining fabric, I want to make a top with the blue one, and a pair of pants with the natural color one.”
“The top should be short-sleeved and round-necked, no 3D tailoring, just flat tailoring. It should be loose and baggy, forming a trapezoid when spread out.” She described it in detail, “The pants should also be loose, the kind of wide-leg pants where the pant legs are so fat they could fit two legs into one.”
“We call that ‘wide-leg pants’,” the Old Tailor said, “That uses way too much fabric.”
But he immediately added: “It’s fine, it’s just homespun cloth anyway.”
He was truly a sensible and understanding old man.
The Old Tailor took a measuring tape and measured Qiao Wei. The two discussed for a while and finalized the allowances. Even though it was homespun cloth, the Old Tailor couldn’t help but shake his head: “Waste of fabric, waste of fabric.”
Qiao Wei chuckled.
But she liked the loose, comfortable, forest-style look. She had inherited the original owner’s clothes, which felt decent for this era, but not comfortable. Living at home, she wanted to dress more comfortably.
Having endured two years of painful bedridden life, she wanted to pursue a more comfortable, natural, and cozy life.
The Old Tailor asked: “Which one do you want first?”
Qiao Wei chose to have the cushion covers first; the clothes weren’t urgent.
The Old Tailor: “Just come pick them up in the afternoon.”
The Old Tailor’s working tool was a very bulky, vintage-looking treadle sewing machine.
Qiao Wei said: “Making this is fast, huh.”
The cushion covers were square and should be easy to make.
Because they were to be used as backrests, Qiao Wei made them quite large, 70×65 in size. And she didn’t want the kind made by sewing two pieces of fabric flat together; she wanted them to be 3D, with height (thickness) in addition to length and width.
But that was still just straight-line cutting, and then sewing it all together with the clanking of the sewing machine. It was still much simpler than making clothes.
The Old Tailor nodded, spread the fabric on the workbench, marked the lines with tailor’s chalk, and prepared to cut. As he made the first cut, the old man casually asked: “What will you fill them with?”
Qiao Wei said: “I was just about to ask you, where can I buy cotton?”
Stuffed with cotton, leaning back would be so comfortable.
A budget sofa alternative.
The Old Tailor’s scissors stopped, and he lifted his eyelids to look at Qiao Wei.
He was hunched over, his glasses slid down to the tip of his nose, and his eyes looked up at Qiao Wei: “Cotton?”
Qiao Wei: “Yeah.”
The Old Tailor pushed up his glasses, but as soon as he let go, they slid down again. The old man confirmed once more: “Cotton?”
“Um…” Qiao Wei’s confidence wavered, “Is… is that not allowed?”
“You’re a cadre family, right?”
There were two military dependent areas in town, and the townspeople often dealt with the military dependents.
Basically, you could tell at a glance who was a military dependent and who was a local.
The old man said: “If you were making a new cotton-padded jacket, of course filling it with cotton is fine. But you’re making a cushion…”
The old man didn’t continue, just shook his head.
Silence spoke louder than a thousand words.
Qiao Wei broke into a slight sweat: “I’ll think about it some more…”
The Old Tailor lowered his head and focused on cutting: “Remember to come pick them up in the afternoon.”
Qiao Wei prepared to leave with Yan Xiang and heard the old man seemingly talking to himself: “So many families, the cotton inside their jackets has turned black, yet they can’t bear to make new ones…”
So that was it.
Although Qiao Wei often reminded herself to be mindful of the era, she ultimately came from the internet age, where goods were extremely abundant and technology was highly developed.
It was still quite difficult for her to grasp the “degree” of using items.
After all, in later generations, cotton was mostly used for textiles; almost no one used cotton quilts or wore cotton-padded jackets anymore.
Grasping the scale was too difficult.
Qiao Wei was very grateful for the old man’s reminder; she softly said “Thank you” before leaving.
They didn’t go straight home from the tailor shop. When Qiao Wei and Yan Xiang came out, besides the fabric, they were also carrying a bucket.
Yan Xiang waved his little shovel: “Mom, let’s go!”
Qiao Wei: “Let’s go!”
They had agreed to go pick up pebbles today.
The mother and son carried a bucket, and Yan Xiang also brought his little shovel—the one that came in handy when he went to scoop river mud with his dad.
Qiao Wei had noticed yesterday while at the market that there were pebbles in the river.
The mother and son arrived at the riverside, where the sun made the little river sparkle. This was already on the outskirts of town, and in the distance, large patches of green farmland could be seen.
Qiao Wei tucked the loose hair at her temples behind her ears in the sunlight, sighing that there was nothing better than this pastoral scenery.
She found a shallow spot where the riverbed was visible to the naked eye, and one could wade across the river.
She had her child with her, so this depth wouldn’t be dangerous.
Both of them took off their shoes, rolled up their pant legs, went into the river barefoot, and bent down to pick up pebbles.
“Why are these stones called pebbles?” Qiao Wei said, ” ‘Luan’ means egg. Look at the size and shape of this stone; doesn’t it look just like a goose egg? That’s why they’re called goose-egg stones (pebbles).”
The child learned new knowledge and happily bent down to touch the stones.
Qiao Wei instructed him: “Look for the pretty ones.”
You didn’t need to teach what a pretty stone looked like; one’s eyes would see it on their own.
Those that were light-colored, nearly translucent, or had very pure colors were the pretty ones. Without Qiao Wei needing to teach him, Yan Xiang could pick them out.
At this time, the sun was already very hot, but the river water was refreshing and cool. Soaking one’s feet in it was very comfortable.
Qiao Wei’s period had already ended, so she wasn’t afraid of touching cold water.
She was also wearing the straw hat she bought at the market yesterday.
This straw hat was just a natural-colored farmer’s straw hat. If she could have a pretty ribbon tied around it with a bow, it would be totally beach style.
But that would be a bit too bourgeois, and she didn’t have a pretty ribbon. Qiao Wei cut a strip of indigo homespun cloth, tied it around, and made a bow.
The homespun cloth didn’t even have hemmed edges and was hanging with a bunch of loose threads.
It was decorated in a way that was both natural and rustic.
You could only say that this female comrade really knew how to dress herself up and loved beauty. You couldn’t say she was being bourgeois, corrupt, or decadent.
The mother and son picked stones very happily. It didn’t take too long before they had filled a bucket.
Sitting on a large rock by the river to dry their feet, putting on their shoes, and preparing to return home loaded with their haul, Qiao Wei bent over to lift the bucket…
She didn’t, she couldn’t lift it.
She had really overestimated herself; Qiao Wei was between laughing and crying.
In the end, there was no choice but to dump out half a bucket of pebbles, stack them next to the big rock, and carry half a bucket back.
At this point, the sun was too strong, so Qiao Wei said: “Let’s go back for those in the afternoon.”
Yan Xiang: “Okay!”
After lunch, it was the usual routine of a nap.
Napping was truly a good habit. Waking up from a nap, lazily looking at the sunlight outside. At this moment, she really didn’t feel like there was anything in the world to be busy, rushing, or frantic about.
She just wanted to close her eyes and listen to the cicadas.
After recovering her energy, she went to wash her face.
Yan Xiang was also up; the child had slept well and was full of energy: “Mom, let’s go!”
Qiao Wei chuckled: “Let’s go!”
The two went to the riverside first and carried the remaining half of the pebbles home. Together with the pebbles from the morning, they soaked them in a bucket of water.
“Mom, is that enough?” Yan Xiang asked with expectation in his eyes.
Qiao Wei said: “We’re far from finished.”
She took a small stick and drew two parallel lines from the courtyard gate to the house door: “Look, to build a path like this and pave it all with pebbles, this is nowhere near enough.”
Yan Xiang clapped his hands: “Let’s go, let’s go again!”
“Let’s call it a day, this stuff is too heavy. We’ll be like the Foolish Old Man moving mountains, a little bit every day,” Qiao Wei said.
It wasn’t about hiring a few workers to quickly finish it, but doing it herself, changing and building it bit by bit.
Even if it didn’t turn out well and looked ugly, or if it failed, it wouldn’t matter. Because the greatest joy was already in the process.
“Let’s dig the sand pit first,” Qiao Wei said.
She had communicated with Yan Lei, who said he would go get the sand. Qiao Wei said she would dig the pit.
Yan Xiang wouldn’t have it and jumped up: “I’ll dig it myself! I’ll dig my own sand pit!”
Mom had already told him that this pit would be filled with sand for him to play in later.
A real man has to dig his own pit!!
