The freehand brushstrokes of painting and calligraphy have refreshed my life. From the moment we first met, my life was no longer boring, and I finally understood the meaning of perseverance.
In an uneventful life, calligraphy has brought me a whole new experience. That feeling, like talking to someone close to you, is the most pleasant feeling. I decided to practice calligraphy in order to give me some small solace in my boring life.
So, I embarked on this bumpy road. At first, I wrote ugly. The most basic horizontal stroke is like a snake snaking on the paper. I tried and failed and failed again and again. It was early spring and the weather was still a bit cold. I held the brush with my cold red hands and silently said in my mind: press, pause, line, pause, return, collect. It’s just a few words, but it’s not easy to do. I practiced hard and repeated it again and again. The paper piled aside gradually gained thickness, and my calligraphy also gradually improved.
I fell in love with calligraphy. The teacher started asking me to practice complex characters. I carefully compared the copybook and wrote carefully stroke by stroke. Another month or two passed, and I started copying famous works and practicing classic poems. There is a unique charm to writing these popular poems with a brush. Reading these beautiful words while writing is a great pleasure. I watch the flying swallows from the Dream of Red Mansions, I admire the cuckoos weeping as the flowers fade, I think about the sadness and beauty of the shattered jade, and I appreciate the exquisitely crafted pink makeup. I experience the charm of ancient Chinese culture, and my life is filled with the aroma of books.
I further studied calligraphy and came into contact with more fonts. I like the elegance and dignity of official script, which is the classical woman dancing, and the gentle dancing of water sleeves is full of charm; I like the smooth and romantic style of running script, which is the trickling stream and the sound of gurgling water, which is full of vitality. Each stroke also has its own meaning. Horizontally, it is as fair as a scale; vertically, it is as upright as a green pine; when left, it fades out gently; when pressed, it is deeply imprinted; when pointed out, it is round and smooth; when folded out, it is upright... I am doing calligraphy Cultivation of sentiment, even if there are setbacks, never give up!
The flowers hesitate, the willows sing softly, and the tender green is slightly exposed from the tips. Another spring, I participated in a calligraphy competition and returned triumphantly.
Calligraphy has refreshed my life and integrated into my life. Accompanying me through my youth, allowing me to experience the ultimate beauty of the world, and tempering my will. I will never forget you!
I don’t know when I started to collect empty pen refills. As time went by, I ended up with more than a hundred pen refills. Looking at these empty pen refills, which were almost piled up into a hill, I started to collect them. I have a profound understanding of the principle that "there is a road to the mountain of books and diligence is the path", and I have many emotions in my heart!
This weekend, I walked into the study, took a casual glance, and found the pile of empty pen refills that I had almost forgotten. I spread them out on the desk and fell into a series of beautiful memories.
The thick black Baile v5rt, the black pen refill I keep at hand, was the one I used when I entered the top 100 last time. It recorded my glory. I remember that I was very serious at that time, single-minded and meticulous in my studies. After the monthly exam, it was time to announce the rankings. My whole body was tense, and every cell was eager to get a good result. Sure enough, no pain will bring no gain. When the exciting "70" ranking in the whole grade jumped to my ears, I could no longer hide my joy. From then on, I enshrined that pen refill like a Bodhisattva. I was only willing to take it out for use during the big exam, and it seemed to be protecting me, walking side by side with me. But not long ago, it dedicated its last drop of ink. , I was extremely reluctant to part with it and gently put it into the refill pile.
At this time, an empty pen refill full of Japanese characters caught my attention. No matter where I travel, I have the habit of buying some school supplies as souvenirs. I bought this Japanese pen during my summer vacation this year. The pen feels great in my hand and is particularly smooth and round in my hand. It produces oil. Smooth and has a nice color. The cashier put it in the bag and handed it to me, saying "goodbye" to me with a sweet smile. The deepest impression on me was the smile on her face and her enthusiastic service attitude. So, this pen became my favorite, and soon it ran out of oil. I treasured it, and also treasured a wonderful journey.
The red morning light 150 on the edge also evokes a past event, which happened in elementary school. At that time, it was popular to make slingshots to launch pen refills. I also tried to make one. One pen refill and one rubber were all the materials. I took out the least commonly used red pen from the stationery box, removed the refill and the rubber band was full. , let go and it immediately flew out like an arrow, but the red ink in the pen core was thrown out and splashed all over my face. I became a red-faced Guan Gong and made the whole class laugh and laugh. It was very embarrassing. This empty pen The refill gave me a silly childhood memory, and also reminded me to think twice before I act.
And that one, this one... I held these empty refills in my hand one by one and stroked them carefully, and the memory flew like an arrow with those touching stories. Layer after layer, they are rolling and surging in my heart...
Every empty refill is a beautiful memory. Although the oil is empty, the memory is full. It reminds me inadvertently that it is these pen refills that remind me all the time that "diligence is the only way to success". They are recording the world that belongs to me!
It was around ten o'clock the night before yesterday.
Teacher Shu adds math problems to interested students every day, but some of them are too difficult. I sat at the table, chewing the end of my pen and thinking hard. The evening breeze snuck in through the cracks in the unclosed window, cooling my hands and cooling down the time.
The clock was ticking slowly beside me. I seemed extremely irritable without any clue. Finally, I gritted my teeth and dropped my pen, "Dad, come here and teach me the questions!" ”
He took the roll, sat where I was sitting, and began to calculate. In order not to waste time, I went to take a shower. After I came back, I found that he still hadn't moved at all. He just frowned a little and rubbed with the eraser more and more frequently. I looked closer and saw that the auxiliary lines were one after another, dense and messy, like a child's graffiti. . I laughed out loud with a "poof" sound. It's strange that there are so many auxiliary lines. However, he didn't pay attention to me. He just used his method that was completely impossible to be correct and calculated over and over again.
I asked him to tell me his method, and he began to explain every step in detail. As if he was afraid that I wouldn't understand, he repeated some parts several times, like an old lady. It was like he was talking about something commonplace, and I couldn't finish what he said. After I listened patiently to what he said, I lightly said, "Wrong."
He seemed to doubt my words, but he was very unsure, so he could only turn his head and continue to bump into those unrelated conditions. He pushed again several times. The warm yellow light reflected the thin sweat on his forehead. He took out another piece of paper and wiped the sweat from his palms. His lips were slightly pursed and he seemed to be moved by my "wrong". He was at a loss, and then he seemed to really not know where he was wrong, so he came to ask me. I laughed, but the taste of that smile seemed to have changed a bit. After a few hasty words to explain why, he really froze there, the tip of his pen hanging in the air, as if it was trembling, so until the end, he just sighed softly, He shook his head at me and said he couldn't do it either.
When I heard this at first, I didn’t pay much attention, but my eyelids were about to close. Later I realized that he said he couldn’t do it either. In my impression, my father has always been a person who refuses to admit defeat and will not lose. But today, my father failed in front of this math problem, and I personally told him that he failed completely. He vaguely asked him a question: "Dad, how long has it been since you wrote a math problem like this?" He paused, as if he was answering the question seriously, and then he said: "It's been a long, long time." How long has it been? Already? It's probably been so long that all his glory has fallen off.
Last night I told him the method taught by Teacher Shu, but he just responded blankly, not knowing whether he understood it or not. I was about to raise my head and tease him that he was also wrong, but She ran into his gray and dim eyes, like a child who was being criticized for doing something wrong. My heart suddenly twitched, and when I came to my senses, I found that my father had already left the room. I wanted to stand up and catch up with him, but I recalled what I had done yesterday and fell back into my seat.
Is it really the father’s fault? I fell into deep thought.
An ordinary morning.
The sky is not blue, it is just flat white, so vast and white that people can’t help but wonder whether it is the sky or white. The sunshine is mixed with the unique temperature of winter. It is warm and cool, and I am not tired of it. However, the sunshine is far away and it is desolate.
All the leaves of the trees in the community have fallen out, and they are so bare that they are very eye-catching. The leafless branches are like skinny and withered hands, reaching up from the ground. I wish I could scratch them. Oh my god, the "hand" leaned back and bent into an incredible arc, which was quite creepy.
The leaves of the orange tree stayed on the tree tenaciously. Some pieces were piled into piles, and several piles were squeezed into groups. The morning wind was quite noisy, flying through every gap. In the meantime, those leaves were blown by the wind. When the wind passed by, there was only a slight trembling, like a disgraced gentleman fiddling with his tie. I wanted to laugh, but I didn't see a touch of warm yellow in the green.
That's an orange.
It was probably not picked because it grew in a very high place, so it walked through autumn alone, trembling in the winter wind, hanging precariously on the branches, about to fall. . The color of the orange is very old, as if it has been faded by countless winds and suns. The years have washed away every trace of its original bright appearance, and it just hangs quietly on the branch, or maybe a gust of wind tomorrow, A rain the day after tomorrow, or even the slender sunshine today, can bring it to an end. And it just hung there, not talking.
I began to worry about it. It was impossible for someone to pick it away. No one would move a ladder for an orange that looked sour, but...
It's so pitiful, and I can't do anything. All I can do is be speechless with it. For a moment, a feeling of decadence surged into my heart, and I couldn't even protect my warmth.
Look up again and look at the orange. The fine sunlight is jumping on its surface. This is the little warmth in this bleak winter. Please be sure to survive and accompany me through this winter. In this white world, you are the only warm color. Let us be the surviving warmth between each other, and we will no longer be lonely in this cold winter.
Home-school contact books were passed down one after another. When they were opened, the words written in red pen came into view: "Keep working hard!" When I closed the book, I smiled.
I like to communicate with you in the home-school contact book. When things are good or bad, I can always gain strength from seeing your praise or encouragement. Whenever I didn't do well in the exam, I would deliberately not write down the score or opponent, and just write something else. But you have been paying attention to me, understanding my scores, seeing through my tricks again and again, writing words of encouragement, and warming me.
One week before the monthly exam, my grades dropped significantly. The words "I'm sorry, I failed the exam" repeatedly in the home-school contact book stung my eyes. When I posted them, I was timid. Looking through it, I don’t know what kind of expression you will use to write what kind of words. However, the passages in the book, the words of encouragement, and the intentions of never giving up, made me burst into tears. Just like your warm embrace, it comforts my hesitant heart. I tried my best and used my spare time to study the questions. Because I know, but what kind of sacrifice you made when you wrote these paragraphs. Your cervical spine is not good, and when it is severe, you feel dizzy and numb. Then you not only correct our homework, but also take great pains to communicate with us.
When this semester just started, you set a goal for me on the first page: "How happy I would be if I beat my classmates!" The moment I got the notebook, I immediately Put aside the joy of summer vacation and devote yourself to studying. "Teacher, his English is very good. I can only practice my science." "Well, okay." "Teacher, my physics is 10 points higher than his." "Don't take it lightly"...
< p> Every word is either short or very long. There is praise and encouragement. You also secretly revealed in your deskmate's home-school contact book that I had chosen him as my opponent. In this encouragement, I defeated him. Do you feel relieved and happy?I still remember that I just met you in junior high school. You wrote before the first monthly exam: "Strive for the top 200! Come on!" I will tell you how I solved the questions every night, and you will praise me. Sometimes a smiley face is drawn behind the words.
Round, eyes squinted, very simple, but it made me happy all day long. "I passed the math test yesterday. I like you, girl!" Maybe a short "I like you" can make me full of energy. When you have a cold, you will write with concern, "If you feel uncomfortable, you can apply to do less homework." If you bring glory to the class at the sports meeting or help you take several photos during the spring outing, you will also thank me, just like your neighbor. Just like my sister at home.
I failed in that monthly exam, but you believed that I would do well every time.
Open the home-school contact book and flip through page after page. It is full of advice, care, encouragement and trust. Your words refreshed my life time and time again and added infinite color to my junior high school life. And because of your words, I worked hard towards my goal.
Today's physical education class was the most exciting in the past three semesters. Teacher Zhang agreed to let the boys play basketball.
Ten minutes after the start, four boys from the third grade of junior high school were also practicing. Because there was no venue, they wanted to play a game with us, 4V4. After everyone discussed it for a while, we started. Four students in our class They are Zhong Yinbo, Zhang Tianyu, Liu Yuchen and Xu Zhenhao. The opposing lineup should not be underestimated. One boy is 1.9 meters tall, strong and a perfect center, and the three forwards are agile. So who will win this cross-level basketball game? Let's wait and see.
At the beginning, Zhang was fighting for the ball alone, preparing for 1V4. He had no teammates at all. He took three consecutive disguises and circled the three forwards. When he was proud, he turned around and shot. Thinking that the "first blood" has been obtained, who knows that the center blocked the shot, took the shot with the other hand, and sent the ball with both hands, and the ball flew out. A forward had been waiting for a long time, but unexpectedly, Liu Yuchen shot out in time , trying to intercept the ball midway, but because he was too short, he didn't even touch the ball. In the end, the ball was grabbed by the forward. Liu Yuchen came to his senses, but he was gone. The ball was passed inside again, in the air. While turning, another forward jumped up, landed, and dunked in three steps, and the ball went in! The first half ended with 1:0.
The second half began. This time it was Xu Zhenhao who had the ball, preparing for a three-point shot. Everyone thought he was crazy, but facts speak louder than words. After the ball drew a perfect arc, After entering the basket, the score was evened in an instant. From then on, Xu Zhenhao had a new title: "The Little Three-Point Prince." After all, the third grade of junior high school is the third grade of junior high school. He was abused by the second grade of junior high school and would not be replaced by anyone. Finally, the BOSS appeared. Like a "tank", he despised everything on the basketball court. Even classmate Zhang didn't look down on him. After scoring a point, everyone was stunned, but it was nothing. After Zhang Tianyu got the ball, he first passed it to Liu Yuchen under the basket, and then to Zhong Yinbo's hands. These passes passed the fourth grader of the third grade of junior high school. All the fierce players were stunned, but in the end the ball returned to Zhang Tianyu's hands, a zero-degree air shot. This point is known as the most difficult point in the ball world, but Zhang Tianyu lived up to expectations, the ball actually went in, and he won another victory.
Finally the game came to an end. The score of the two teams was 15:14. We were 15 and they were 14. The score was deadlocked. Everyone thought we would win. The junior high school students were not willing to lose. Have you been slapped in the face by the strength of someone in the second grade of junior high school? The opposite center's small universe exploded. He pondered for a while. When he opened his eyes, if eyes could kill, then we would have died no less than 100 times. His teammates saw this and passed the ball to him. He After getting the ball, he first moved on the spot twice. When Liu Yuchen saw this, he wanted to steal the ball, but the opponent was too strong. When he bumped into Liu Yuchen, he did not move at all, but Liu Yuchen flew out directly and fell to the ground. He was waiting Suddenly, he picked up the ball and rushed up. With his height of 1.9 meters and amazing jumping ability, he learned a one-handed dunk method from Kobe Bryant and created victory. The whole process was smooth and smooth. There was no delay, the score was straight away, and the third grade of junior high school was victorious.
Although this is a game without any suspense, I can see from this game the spirit of the boys in our class who dare to fight and dare to fight. This is the most important thing.
On the weekend, I went to Nantong Haidilao with my parents and good friends.
When I first got there, I was a little inexplicably excited, but I kept taking deep breaths to calm myself down as soon as possible.
When we arrived at the door, we were all dumbfounded. It was full of people, and the people in line could fit into one queue. However, fortunately, we had the foresight to complete the reservation, and when we walked in swaggeringly, Everyone looked at us with envy and jealousy.
The adults were ordering, and we were sent to get the condiments. When we came to the condiments area, we couldn’t help but salivate when we looked at the condiments. We wished we had a little of each kind, but the bowl It was too small to accommodate, and my beautiful fantasy was shattered.
First there is something similar to meatballs and vegetables. For a foodie like me, the wait is extremely long, one minute, two minutes, like years. I looked to my left, Looking to the right, the head is shaking like a rattle. When it was ready, I quickly picked one up and put it in the seasoning bowl. Then, I put it into my mouth at lightning speed. In an instant, a spiciness filled my taste buds. I took a small bite. The soup splashed all over my mouth, so delicious! A kind of Q-elasticity of meatballs, I deeply appreciate it, but it is not a good thing to be impatient. When the spiciness and temperature come together, you immediately feel the fire in your mouth. After a gust of wind and clouds, there was not much food left on the table, and everyone's fighting power was at its peak.
The second part is meat, including beef, mutton, pork, tripe and other types. Picking up a piece of tripe, thinking of how to eat it in Shanghai, I couldn’t help but snicker, and put the tripe in. In the pot, there were words in his mouth: 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, "It's like counting down to a rocket taking off." My mother asked me from the side: "My child, what are you talking about?" I didn't answer her, I put my eyes into the pot, picked up the tripe and put it in my mouth, unequivocally, without any sloppiness, the tripe was very crispy and chewy. , it is not the most delicious food in the world, but it is more than enough as a must-try for hot pot. I noticed the sister next to me. She also imitated me and started eating. After chewing for a long time, she felt like a girl. The tone said: "It tastes terrible." Everyone couldn't help but laugh.
The last part is the staple food. After replacing the water in the pot, the waiter brought a few noodles. Then he picked up the noodles and kept playing with them in his hands. The noodles became more and more delicious as they swung. It got longer and longer, and then she grabbed the other end and threw it towards me. I was fascinated by it and was scared to death by this sudden "surprise". When it was still 1cm away from me, it automatically shrank again. After two or three times, the noodles became very tough. People on the side were full of praises. The waiter threw the noodles into the air, holding scissors in one hand and preparing to go. The hand holding the scissors lifted the noodles in the air. Cut into many strips, use your hands very quickly, catch the noodles with the other hand and put them into the pot.
Nantong not only has hot pot, but also other delicacies. Let us explore delicious food and enjoy Nantong.
Everyone likes different smells, but for me, my favorite smell is the smell of cakes made by my mother.
Whenever someone in the family has a birthday or a special festival, what our whole family looks forward to most is eating cake. But this cake was not bought from any cake shop, but made by my mother herself. I am very proud that my mother has a pair of skillful hands. Through her hands, many foods become so delicious.
I remember that every time my mother makes a cake, she first separates the egg yolks and egg whites, stirs the egg whites with a mixer, then adds sugar and stirs, then adds some white sugar to the egg yolks and beats them, then adds flour, Stir the milk, and finally pour the egg whites into the egg yolks and mix evenly, then pour the egg batter into the cake mold, and pass it through mom's baby oven to make a fragrant cake.
Every time I make a cake, I always stand by and sometimes help with some things. What I was most looking forward to was that my mother put the cake in the oven. As the oven gradually heated up, the aroma of the cake became stronger and stronger. Suddenly, the whole house was filled with the aroma of the cake. At this time, my saliva had already been left on the floor, waiting to eat the cake. When my mother took out the freshly baked cake and put it in front of me, I couldn't wait to put the cake into my mouth.
In an instant, the fragrant cake melted in the mouth, and the sweet cream was not greasy at all. It was slightly sweet. Anyone who tasted it would not be able to help but take a second bite. I think only a mother can make it taste like that. ?
There are thousands of flavors in the world, but I can’t resist the temptation of cakes made by my mother, because this aroma hides my mother’s love and concern for my family. It gave me incomparable warmth. It turns out that this is what my mother smells like.
In winter mornings, you can often see morning fog, but it seems that the fog only likes to dance at high places and never dances below. But this time, it gave enough face to come to the ground and do some mischief.
When I got up in the morning, it was still a little dark, and I didn’t notice anything different outside. After washing up and having breakfast, I picked up my schoolbag and went to school. It was so gray that I couldn't see anything clearly. Oh, it's foggy! Today's fog seems to be much thicker than usual, and everything in the world is shrouded in it, like a fairyland.
When I came downstairs, my eyes seemed to be covered with a layer of veil, and I couldn't see anything. I naughtily fanned my eyes with my hands. Just as my eyes felt clearer, they were shrouded again in an instant. In the mist. After finding the car, we went to school. Along the way, the cars were driving slowly like ants, and two yellow lights flashed behind all the cars to remind everyone to pay attention to safety. Through the car window, I saw all the battery cars turning on their front headlights brightly. Cars shuttled through the mist, the people on the battery cars were only vaguely visible, and the flowers, trees, and tall buildings were just passing by. Just like ink and wash Chinese painting, it is so beautiful!
After finally arriving at the school, the scene was a bit shocking. The teaching buildings were also buried in the layers of fog. One by one, students walked by. If you only see a black line passing by, you can only see the person clearly if you get closer. On the way to the classroom, I felt like I was roaming in a fairyland. My eyes were constantly filled with gauze-like mist, layer by layer, like smoke and dust. I grabbed it with my hands, ha, I caught it, but after a while, it slipped away from my hand. Its figure was everywhere in the world, swaying in front of my eyes. What a lovely fog! It was there again Transformed into a makeup artist, she left strands of silver threads on my black hair, and the upper and lower eyelashes were covered with small crystal flowers. I closed my eyes and felt a coolness in my eyes. It was the masterpiece of fog!
Slowly the sun came out, the fog cleared, and the world gradually returned to its original appearance. The big trees took shape again, the buildings still stood tall and tall, and the road became bustling with traffic. This appearance, this scene, I marvel at the magic of nature.
The world is like a fairyland because of the fog, and it will also be beautiful because there is no fog. And the fog will come gently, just as it walks gently.
On the Shenzhou Continent, there are four types of pots: gas pot, dry pot, stew pot, and hot pot. Compared with the gas pots that are full of color and flavor, the new and trendy dry pots, and the delicious braised pots, I think that the fiery hot pots are "a step above" them!
Let’s not talk about what we eat. As soon as we walked in, it smelled so good! I saw a "cloud and mist" all around, and the various condiments were shining with their unique splendor like treasures, accompanied by wisps of "white smoke" and the flavor of the hot pot... who was missing too!
Finally, the hotpot was served. Hotpot has already opened his mouth impatiently and exhaled steam. The hot smell fills the room, rushes in quickly, penetrates into your nose, and dominates all your sense of smell. Bubbles were constantly rolling in the big mouth of the hot pot, as if it was roaring to each of us: "Let's have some food!" There was no other way but to "feed" it. Stuff the hot-boiled vegetables into its big mouth one by one. After hearing its "tsk, tsk" praise, it opens its mouth wide and exhales bursts of hot air, spewing out pieces of clamoring delicious food. Dad acted as a "guinea pig", picked up a piece and quickly put it into his mouth - "Well, it's not cooked yet.
"But with lightning speed, he picked up a piece of the best snowflake and stuffed it into his mouth before he could dip it in the sauce or even care about the hot ground... It turned out that dad was lying to us! ?
< p> The spicy hot pot and fragrant smell have already aroused the greed in our stomachs. “Eat! "I don't know which brother shouted, and dozens of pairs of chopsticks swam into the hot pot together, quickly carrying food into the bowl. But unlike them, I picked up a piece of top-quality beef, sat down and dipped it in homemade With the sauce, you can feel the tough fiber of the beef meet the Shacha sauce, mix it with the XO sauce, and finally mix it with the mushroom king sauce and it jumps in the mouth, running excitedly on the taste buds, and finally slowly slides into the stomach. This wonderful feeling spreads a strong sense of happiness all over my body!The beef, mutton, duck blood... were all quickly wiped out when I saw our unfinished eyes. Dad immediately said: "One more of each!" Before he finished speaking, there was only one word: "Okay!" ”
Such a hot hot pot, I really want to eat it again. Let all kinds of delicacies bloom and sway between your lips and teeth, and let the wonderful taste write the most beautiful fragrance in the world on your tongue!