| «‹ July 2018 ›» | | S | M | T | W | T | F | S | | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | | 29 | 30 | 31 | |
|
2015 年 7 月 13 日 星期一  |
| Time Huazhou, curly is tenderness |
分類: zawen |
If the time flow, patchwork of thinking, Brushless DC Motor’s Classification and Structure curly is paved with tenderness, is sweet intention, valve heart, elegant poetry, pickup time in the heart clouds, quietly a person, meditation is located in a corner, quietly listening to the number of the wind rain, someone wind horse, etc. that pen heart allure, the most warm and know the, the reminder of the heart, I have in one Jiangchun water, green like, only Qianshan, involving Wanshui, witness the love of proverbs, in the time tunnel, circulation honey sense of tenderness!
Unease I think at just the right time, met the right people, meet each other, a voice, "Oh, you are here," this is how much grace, so quietly, and so on, which people come, not quiet, sit at the time of the scroll,melody-nn - Homepage Nianhua not language, aroma producing a valve flap, a piece of you, and the other a piece of writing, the warm whisper, rolls of tenderness, in remote reading window, cook a pot of Acacia, waiting for the kapok spring, or standing on the branches, in the south of the Yangtze River Gu Xiang, to bring a ray of moonlight in the lotus pond, hold an umbrella, to be a field day blue, misty rain.
In the time of the Qingyun, a reflection of flowers, bringing out thoughts of the meniscus, a piece depicting the horizon, a piece of sway with cape and tenderness to measure the miss distance, on the river of time, and with the wind go beyond the unending, far from the answer, it is a long smoke, erratic, gently touched, broken in one piece, salvage this piece of memory, careful piecing together, no matter how paste, melody-nn Rampo World is not the original appearance, in a hurry to, empty, people do not know where to go, still laugh spring peach...
Time boundless, waiting for the Tianchang, thin branches, wind drying a quarter after quarter memory, save the amortized, caught in the years of Library in the, read the idle, a dust blown, you in the yellow pages, becoming stale fragile, gently turn over and then, read it again and again, until I read to tears, read, read silent, maybe you are just the word, the word in the word, you never ignore and never into the heart of a just a one-man show.
Keep aside time flies Naochun blooming in the heart a sum of greengage news, this hesitation hesitation with a mild memory, far from near, the lamp that time, Xu the unabated, the prospect of the dream, I do not know whether in the season, leaving a glimpse, listen to your gentle whisper, bloom moist corner, co-author of the light years, into all like, infiltrating all Qing Huan, not to ask the wind and snow, a few degrees sigh, not to ask, how many how many in the twinkling of an eye, always in silence time manjuan, brooding over all over the sky stars, to shake off a pool of ink, witty, tenderness.
Rainbow pen ink tenderness of the time, you can slowly, slowly, let my grasp time tail, leaving disc Xinxiang to the prosperity of the fleeting time, leave a car in the bloom of youth, and you and I, in the pure heart, painted with a classics year, about you and me, maybe some immature, maybe not you admired the roses is not pleasing to the eye, only is a leaf green leaves, verdant a wall of green,Melody-nn A poetic time perhaps is the season of wind, blowing the wall clothes, all the feelings, the surplus although Sherlock tenderness, with the wind, co-author of the rain, the season of the circumstances, one cut, fixed image into memory.
Lights dim, even for a moment together is flower of heritage of the die waiting, many routed suddenly look back in, fixed in the memory, want to cherish this wonderful a gold, but rush of that year in a hurry to go, leave a fall red, wind day, thinking mind, listening to the wind slow sing; snow days, tea, military is warm, no matter how times change, a wisp of mind, quietly flowing, slow light sing sing, tender hundred flatters, long and arduous journey, like in the nearby.
|
2015 年 6 月 9 日 星期二  |
| Every defect of the mind may have a special receipt |
分類: 未分類 |
Studies serve for delight, for ornament1, and for ability. Their chief use for delight, is in privateness and retiring; for ornament, is in discourse2; and for ability, is in the judgment3 and disposition4 of business. For expert and execute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one; but the general counsels, and the plots and marshalling of affairs, come best form those that are learned.
To spend too much time in studies is sloth5; to use them too much for ornament, is affectation; to make judgement wholly by their rules, is the humour of a scholar.
They perfect nature, and are perfected by experience: for natural abilities are like natural plants, that need proyning (pruning) by study; and studies themselves do give forth6 directions too much at large, except they be bounded in by experience.
Crafty7 men contemn8 studies, simple men admire them, and wise men use them; for they teach not their own use; but that is a wisdom without them, and above them, won by observation.
Read not to contradict and confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and discourse; but to weigh and consider.
Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously9; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.
Some books also may be read by deputy, and extracts made of them by others; but that would be only in the less important arguments, and the meaner sort of books; else distilled10 books are, like common distilled waters, flashy things.
Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a great memory; if he confer little, he had need have a present wit; and if he read little, he had need have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not.
Histories make men wise; poets witty11; the mathematics subtile; natural philosophy deep; moral grave; logic12 and rhetoric13 able to contend. Abeunt studia in morse. (Studies pass into the character.)
Nay14 there is no stand or impediment in the wit, but may be wrought15 out by fit studies: like as diseases of the body may have appropriate exercises. Bowling16 is good for the stone and reins17; shooting for the lungs and breast; gentle walking for the stomach ; riding for the head; and the like.
So if a man's wit be wandering, let him study the mathematics; for in demonstrations18, if his wit be called away never so little, he must begin again. If his wit be not apt to distinguish or find differences, let him study the schoolmen; for they are cyminisectores. If he be not apt to beat over matters, and to call up one thing to prove and illustrate19 another, let him study the lawyers' cases. So every defect of the mind may have a special receipt.
|
2014 年 5 月 13 日 星期二  |
| Very much enamored, wind in May |
分類: zawen |
May -- Thanksgiving season, carrying the heart filled with thoughts, to visit their parents, several mountain, a few process water, expecting eyes winding in the rugged mountain path. Along the way, chestnut floral smell floated, disperse the gas oil smell bad. Panoramic view of the verdant summer window: a piece of wood, bamboo, deeply shallow green, across the rapidly in the window. Both sides of the road full of tiny spots small yellow flowers, dazzling in the sun, like the summer flowers flowers under oath.
Hometown landscape always You Find let me infinite love, often recall the childhood and small partners to play the mountain. Spring mountain to pick wild strawberry, strawberry that mountain, looking far away a piece of bright red, not to have let us drool with envy. We ate, mining, a meal, pull a long tail to strawberry a grain together, then put the dog's tail grass knot, hung on the neck like a string of red necklace. On the way home always tempted, walk a few steps will take one, until the house remained a dog's tail grass.
The summer tree would be in the best of spirits of Yang Meigang white, the home, the father said: into the bowl, sprinkle a few grains of salt, a half hour before, not acid. Wait until the red bayberry matures, a tree covered with red and dark red bayberry, we Can't wait to climb the tree, sat in the tree pole slowly to enjoy those delicate delicious, until the teeth sour to down.
In autumn, the wind chill, the mountain is very enthusiastic, tree red leaves yellow leaves the mountains into grow more enchanting, we put those falling leaves to pick up beautiful clip in the book, after a few days to open a dry, is the book neatly, color is not so bright a, has a different aesthetic feeling, like a middle-aged woman, a mature and calm, skillful and elegant charm.
Home of the winter is very cold, but my mother every year in YouFind the summer for the we weave a good few sweaters, winter can wear. But due to cold, often still huddled. To a field until the snow with almost frozen vigor, because heart heat so don't feel cold. Make a snowman, snowball fights, eat, eat ice snow branches hang down. In the evening, packed in a bowl put sugar water, and then put a rope, wait until the second day, the bowl is a block of ice, a pull rope, the ice will pull up, Bing Bing, sweet. Even if the hand half frozen, frozen half tongue hemp, still love this homemade popsicles.
The wind blew a year after year, annual dust for soundless and stirless in canthus engraved a few silk fine lines. Childhood has fall further behind us, but deeply branded in my mind, do not know whether those partners will remember those fun.
The process of water flow in rivers and Mountains memories turn so fast and then slow, look at the time was near noon. The car to the entrance to the village, far far see mom and dad was at the door waiting for me. The stream winds, the car, saw Mom and dad head of white hair and increased, the heart can not help but filled with acid. Dad said that early in the morning to buy my favorite dishes, my mother said are cooked, as soon as I got home to eat. This touched my heart can not describe in words, only to feel the eyes moist. Home, always so warm, the world, the love of parents is the most selfless love, both on the outside hurt, parents' love is the best healing medicine, have parents place is Metro Ethernet paradise.
Human life may pass through many famous mountains and great rivers, but the hearts of the most beautiful scenery or the hometown landscape, because there are memories of childhood. Human life may stop in some city, but the favorite or the once rebellious when trying to escape from home, because there are my parents.
|
2014 年 3 月 12 日 星期三  |
| completing homework assignments |
分類: zawen |
I've been there. I got pregnant in 1990. At that time, society had a 'you played, you pay' attitude towards teen age parents. My high school didn't allow pregnant teens to continue at the school. The local public high school required that we transfer to an adult education program so that we didn't influence the other teens. My college professors were unwilling to work with me on completing homework assignments.
One boss told me I couldn't work for him unless I wore a ring on my left finger to 'pretend' I was married because he wasn't sure how the customer's would like an unwed parent. Another supervisor refused to allow me to be promoted because he assumed I was a 'slut' since I was a single parent. My friends suddenly didn't have time for me.
People's attitudes ranged from 'slut' to 'you did it to yourself' to actually telling me 'you're a social outcast and I can't accept you.'
I was alone, scared, confused, and certain that I wanted to raise this child. It wasn't going to be an easy road, I knew that. But this was my child. I was keeping her.
Raising a child is hard - financial pressures, time off work, protecting and providing for them, clothes, shots, doctors appointments, daycare, school, play dates, teacher conferences, the list goes on and on. When you add to that the rejection of not only the people you normally leaned on for support in the tough times; but also, bosses, strangers, religious groups, and countless others, the task quickly seems insurmountable. You get overwhelmed seemingly having to fight on every side just to stay afloat.
Single parenting is becoming more accepted in society, but for the young single parent, the isolation and judgmentalism of society is still as strong as ever. The effect is so strong that it is rare to ever meet an adult female who admits to being a teen parent. Having grown enough to free themselves from that negative stereotype and the isolation, few are willing to admit to their status ever again.
But young parents are part of our society. There are thousands of them, and we are doing an injustice to them and to ourselves by not stepping up and helping them through the difficult times we each faced. We can support and love each other. We can teach and learn from each other. We can end the isolation, provide support, knowledge, encouragement, and in the process, improve the lives of the single parents and their children. This, in turn, creates a better life and society for us all. |
2014 年 2 月 13 日 星期四  |
| A field is to forgive sins |
分類: zawen |
How many times, those inside want to read time folding, how many times, those who cannot be redeemed in the wheel of time is lost, I often in meditation in the fictional beautiful, want to give the wandering soul looking for a warm home, the touch of the deepest sorrow all forget, I often draw the outline of happiness in meditation, looking for a safe know, dream in the red troubles, dream never rest, in the dream and wake up the edge, I seem to see a flying angel, I follow the traces of shallow and follow the road, forget a sunny day, write down a about the snow fairy.
In the life of the subtle extraction of moving, let the water without a trace when a heart ripples rippling in the slightest, tranquil solitude, let neon noisy world stranded on a person's heaven, fireworks in the night sky bright enchanting, lonely interpretation of a beautiful show, not know is happy or moved, or a desire to be forgiven of silence, that moment, tears condensate orbital, that be at a loss what to do alone dripping wet delicate touched my shoulder.Audio Cables Clean Warm Sound
Don't know is drunk or addiction, is always difficult to get out of a space, a no need to hide, no color space, heart daydream always seems to bring some soul derailed, night deep but can also bring a crush of alone, when a lonely is a preview peeling without involuntary discharge of urine when no, I for my frail looking for any rely on, when a kind of insight is chewing taste lost, I didn't find any excuse for their numbness, when a feeling flush again and again, I have no sympathy for their escape from the slightest, barren in a desolate, is filled with another being noticed and.
When those who had cheered as the mood gradually, the partly hidden and partly visible transformation seems to give me a life unbearable weight, about to speak, but saying nothing silence flying is a pure happiness, every sleepless night, I tried to open the heart, and soul to a real dialogue, but found a lot of things is such a touch is pain, it did not even remember miss me, the struggle is quiet silence, after the indulgence is a sense of sadness, I forgive all sins, just forget myself exhibition Hong Kong.
Ending song and a song, let me indulge dream in the ordinary time, bustling desolation also gave me some years accumulation of calm, fleeting, together with mottled memory, in the world of mortals, time loving tired picturesque, all moved in time to copy a picture fresh beauty, its rich fragrance, life maybe is God's gift, along the way, laughing, crying, tired, also very helpless, but there are some faith grows in the lonely asylum, there are always some the pursuit of sublimation in the lonely concern, so, I like a kind of feeling, no noise, there is no exaggerated, in the lonely wandering their innocence.
In those tired tired time, trance, some want to stop their own pace, to wait for a flower was, in those days think constantly of, but time has passed very far I throw away, I don't want to go, just want to interpret their own stories in their own track, if not wonderful, but it is so real, stood on the years end grazing mind, by looking back, think, hold a warm, romantic passionate interpretation, think, twist a once, and time is the wind.Handmade Sequin Embroidery Highlights
|
|