And Cinnamon doesn't want to go to school. He seemed to like it when he was cooped up at home quietly reading books, listening to classical music records, and playing in the yard with the mongrel dog he had at that time. Sometimes he goes out for a walk, but he doesn't want to be with children of the same age nearby, and he's not very active in going out. Nutmeg learned sign language and began to use sign language and cinnamon to carry out daily conversations. When sign language is not enough, we can talk on a pad. But one day she found that she could communicate with her son without using such cumbersome means and with little inconvenience. With just a little body movement and expression, she can read each other's thoughts and needs like the palm of her hand. When she realized this,cold drawn tubes, she no longer cared much about Cinnamon's silence. Because this does not hinder the spiritual communication between himself and his son. Of course, the physical inconvenience brought about by the instantaneity of sound language is not imperceptible. But that's just the "inconvenience" level after all. In a sense, this inconvenience purifies the taste of mother-child communication. In her spare time, she teaches cinnamon Chinese characters and languages, and teaches calculation methods. But there is not much that actually has to be taught by her. He likes to read books, and all the necessary things are mastered by reading books by himself. Nutmeg's task was more to choose the books he needed for his son than to teach him. My son liked music and wanted to learn the piano. In the first few months,side impact beams, he learned basic fingering from a professional teacher. Later, he stopped receiving formal education and only relied on book tutorials and tapes to master the playing skills that were quite difficult for a child of that age. I mainly like to play Bach and Mozart. With the exception of Poulenc and Bartok, there was little interest in playing post-Romantic music. For the first six years, my interests were focused on music and reading. Later, when he was in junior high school, he began to show enthusiasm for foreign language learning. Begin to learn English, then choose to learn French, respectively, half a year to read simple books and periodicals. No, of course, but the purpose of cinnamon is to read books written in the language, stainless steel 304 pipes ,beam impact tubes, not to talk. In addition, he likes to play with complicated machines. Buy all the special tools, assemble the radio and vacuum tube amplifier, disassemble the clock and repair it. The people around him — in fact, Cinnamon's real contacts were limited to his mother, father and grandmother — had long been accustomed to his silence and did not think anything unnatural or abnormal. A few years later, Nutmeg stopped taking her son to the psychiatrist. The weekly interview did nothing for his "symptoms" and, as the doctor pointed out at the beginning, there was nothing wrong with cinnamon except that he did not open his mouth. In a sense, he is a perfect child. Nutmeg never in his memory ordered him to do anything, nor scolded him for not doing anything. Cinnamon decides what he should do and does it in his own way. Different from other children in all respects, the comparison itself can be said to be meaningless. After his grandmother died at the age of twelve (he wept silently for days), he took the initiative to do the housework during Nutmeg's daytime working hours. Cook, wash clothes, clean the room and so on. Nutmeg had planned to hire someone to do the housework after her mother died, but Cinnamon insisted on shaking his head. He refused the intervention of strangers and did not like the change of order in his home. In the end, much of family life is kept in order by the efforts of the meat hangers. Cinnamon spoke to me with both hands. The fingers are inherited from their mother, slender and beautiful. Long is long, but not too much. Ten fingers in front of his face, like a very well-behaved and obedient creature, moved flexibly and smoothly to convey the necessary information to me. As Nutmeg said, I didn't find it difficult to understand what he said. Of course, I know nothing about sign language, but I can follow the complex movements of his fingers without hindrance. Perhaps because his finger movements are too perfect, he can understand its meaning only by staring at it, just like watching a foreign language drama that he can't understand, but sometimes he is moved by it. Or maybe I didn't see anything even though I was staring at his fingers. The movements of my fingers are the decorative appearance of the building, and I am unconsciously looking at something else behind it. Every morning when I talked to him across the table, I tried to find out the boundary, but I couldn't grasp it. Even if there is such a boundary, I am afraid it is often displaced and deformed. After a brief conversation or communication, Cinnamon took off his coat and hung it on the hanger, tucked his tie into his shirt, and began to clean the room and cook a simple meal for me. Listen to music on a small stereo device at this time. One week I played only Rossini's sacred music, and another week I played only Berwald's wind concerto, whose melody I knew by heart many times. Cinnamon does things cleanly and impeccably, without superfluous movements. At first I wanted to help,Cold Drawn Seamless Tubes, and every time he smiled and shook his head. Look at the meat hanging a series of movements, it really seems that giving him one person can make everything go smoothly. Later, I sat on the sofa in the "sewing room" to read books during Cinnamon's working hours so as not to disturb him. cbiesautomotive.com
