前言:想要写出一篇令人眼前一亮的文章吗?我们特意为您整理了5篇我的爱好范文,相信会为您的写作带来帮助,发现更多的写作思路和灵感。
俗话说的好:“有兴趣的人比没兴趣的人双倍的快乐,因为有兴趣的人同时生活在两个世界里”。是呀!谁没有爱好呢?美国罗斯福总统的爱好是集邮,姐姐的爱好是弹钢琴,当然,我也有我的爱好,那就是----画画。
在上学前班的时候,奶奶和妈妈带我去学画画。教我画画的是李波老师,李老师给了我一张画,上面画着葡萄、梨、苹果、还有西瓜,他说:“你只要照着这张画在纸上画一遍就可以了”。过了一会儿,我就画完了,李老师看了以后说:“你画画很有天赋,而且还是个小天才”。听完这话,甭提我有多高兴。回到家里,我拿出了几张纸,在纸上画了许多画,越画越爱画,我居然对画画上了瘾。
如今,我已经四年级了,在班里有一位同学叫秦雨欣。同学们都说是“班级小画家”这个称号让我产生了几分嫉妒之心,为什么她的画比我画的好呢?现在我终于明白了,“一个人不论做什么事,不是自己认为可以就算是十全十美,而是参纳一下他人的意见,让他人指出不足之处,进行修改、完善,让众人评出好才算是真好”。从今以后我要努力画画,超过咱班的“班级小画家”。
哦!原来画画不仅给人带来无穷快乐,而且还让我明白只有刻苦钻研,才能追求向上的道理。
课余我最大的爱好就是短跑。
我个子偏小,脚比较小,但腿比较灵活。妈妈说我脚底是弯的,适合走路、跑步。
在幼儿园的时候,我常常参加学校的比赛,同学们和老师都夸我跑得快,我可不骄傲。上了小学,参加了体育训练,掌握了一些跑步的技巧,我的短跑速度越来越快,我经常和同学比赛,可他们都不是我的对手,对此,我还有些得意呢?
暑假里,我看了奥运会比赛,看见运动健儿们那飞驰的身影,我心理好羡慕,特别是那些田径运动员,我经常为他们的成功鼓掌。
我的梦想是成为短跑运动员。我要不断地加强训练,让自己梦想成真。
我的爱好
我有许多兴趣爱好,但我最喜欢阅读。
《安徒生童话》,《作文大全》,《故事大全》等都是我爱看的书。
有一次,妈妈要出门,对我说:“我要出去,你在家里,饭在锅里,自己去拿吃的。”当时,我正津津有味地在看《马小跳作文》,便顺口应了一声:“知道了。”我一看书就忘了时间,过了一会儿,妈妈回来了,门铃声我也没听到。妈妈只好在门外喊:“郑辛,郑辛!”我听到了,如飞似的跑到楼下打开门,让妈妈进来。妈妈问:“饭吃了吗?”我这时才想起自己还没吃饭。妈妈摸摸我的头,笑呵呵地说:“你看,都过了2个小时了,你真是个小书迷啊!”妈妈话音刚落,我顿时觉的肚子有点饿了,就跑到厨房吃饭,可是饭菜都凉了。
这就是我的爱好,你们喜欢吗?
王雪娇
我的名字叫雪娇,今年读二年级了,我有一张瓜子脸,一双水灵灵的大眼睛,眨巴眨巴的会说话呢。
我喜欢看书,每次放假,我都要到图书馆借书,我还记得高尔基说过:“书是人类进步的阶梯。”我们应该多看书增长学习知识。
我喜欢看电视,我最喜欢看的电视就是《动画天地》了,我最爱看的就是《三打白骨精》了。我觉得看电视既是休息,又能学到更多的知识,那可真是一举两得啊。
我喜欢练字,因为练字能集中注意力,我的耐性得到提高。每当静下心来,我总能把字写好。相同的,只要耐心做一件事,就能把事情做得更好。
我还喜欢打篮球,虽然我的球技不太好,但我还是每天坚持运动,这样可以锻炼身体,我希望等我长大后,我能参加运动会。
Chris looked at the clock again. Only five more minutes before school let out.
"On Friday," said his Creative Learning teacher, Mrs. Griswell, "be prepared to share your favorite hobby with the class. And please bring samples to show everyone!"
Chris groaned. No way am I going to talk about my favorite hobby, he thought. His older brother, Wes, teased him about it enough―and his dad didn't think much of it, either.
After school, Chris's friend Nick sat down beside him on the bus. "So what're you going to do for that hobby thing?" "Uh, I guess I can show my baseball cards," Chris mumbled1). No one except his family knew about his real hobby. "Cool," said Nick. "I'll bring in some of my hockey posters."
As the bus pulled out of the parking lot, Brian tapped Chris on the shoulder. "Heard you guys talking. I'm going to bring my bowling trophies2). Got five of them. I go every week, you know. Bet you don't know how to keep score. Bet the other kids don't know, either. I'll explain it. It's complicated, you know." "Yeah," said Chris, turning back around in his seat so he wouldn't have to talk to him anymore. Brian always got on his nerves3).
"Don't believe him," Nick whispered. "He's the worst bowler I've ever seen." "But where will he get the trophies?" Nick shrugged. "Borrow some from his dad, I guess. He's really fake." The bus slowed down. "Hey, this is my stop. See you."
At home, Chris pulled out his boxes of baseball cards. He liked baseball―even played some. But his real hobby let him express things from his imagination, and that's what he liked most.
Sorting through his cards, Chris began choosing some of the best ones. He also thought about bringing in the ball that Albert Pujols4) had signed for him. And yet he didn't feel right about what he had decided.
Tuesday passed. Chris gathered his baseball supplies and put them in a grocery bag marked "My Favorite Hobby". He was ready for Friday, but something still felt wrong. He walked out of his room, ignoring the sketchpad5) on his desk.
Wednesday. After school Chris sat at the kitchen table with a cheese and ketchup sandwich and a glass of milk, but he wasn't hungry.
"What's up?" Chris's brother Wes asked, bursting through the door from soccer practice. "Nothing," Chris mumbled. Wes pulled a bag of pretzels6) from the pantry7). Chris picked at8) his sandwich. "Hey, today Nick said that Brian was a fake." "Why?" "Because he lies a lot. Makes stuff up to impress people, I guess." "Oh," said Wes, chomping9) on a pretzel. "I guess Nick must be right, then. Brian sounds pretty fake." "I don't want to be fake," said Chris. "Why would you be?" Chris thought for a second. "No reason." "Good," Wes said, as he left the kitchen.
Chris sighed. He didn't want to be fake, but he wasn't sure he had the guts10) to tell everyone his real hobby. The guys would be all over11) him.
He chewed his sandwich slowly, thinking of Grandma. She was the reason he'd gotten interested in his hobby in the first place. "You have talent," Grandma had told him proudly, admiring12) his work. And that felt really good.
Suddenly, Chris knew what he had to do. He dropped his sandwich on the plate and ran very fast to the phone. "Hi, Grandma, it's Chris. I need your help."
...
Friday morning.
"Are you ready, Chris?" Mrs. Griswell asked. Everyone in the class turned to look at him. Chris walked to the front of the classroom, clutching his grocery bag. His heart was pounding, and his legs felt shaky. I can't do this! He thought frantically13). "Go ahead and tell us about your hobby," Mrs. Griswell said, smiling. Chris nodded. Get it over with14), he told himself. Don't let them see you sweat. He remembered that from somewhere.
So he began. "I design things. I mean ... I design clothes and accessories15)." Yep! There they were―the giggles and the sneers16). "I'm a fashion designer." He brought out his sketchbook and flipped17) through pages showing his designs for jackets and caps, pants and shirts.
"My grandma designs clothes, too," he explained. "She taught me all about patterns and sewing." There were still a few snickers18), even though Mrs. Griswell was shaking her head.
But when Chris pulled a headband from his bag and put it on, the class became quiet. "This is one of my accessories for boys. I braided black and blue cording19) and attached a small flat stone that goes in the middle of the forehead." He heard Nick say, "Cool!"
"For girls, the cording is pink and purple with a small seashell."
"I love it!" exclaimed Amber. A few of the other girls nodded enthusiastically.
Chris felt a burst of hope. "I made headbands for everyone," he said.
The whole class buzzed with excitement. Chris grinned. Now things finally felt right!
克里斯又看了一眼表,距离放学只剩五分钟了。
“本周五,”他的创意学习课老师格里斯韦尔夫人说,“大家准备好跟班里的同学分享一下你最大的爱好吧。请带一些小样过来给大家看看!”
克里斯叹了口气。我才不会讲自己最大的爱好,他想。他的哥哥韦斯因为这个已经戏弄他够多了,他的爸爸也觉得这爱好不怎么样。
放学后的校车上,克里斯的朋友尼克挨着他坐下了。“关于那个爱好的事,你准备怎么办?”“嗯,我想我可以给大家看看我的棒球卡。”克里斯咕哝着说。除了他的家人以外,没人知道他真正的爱好是什么。“不错啊,”尼克说,“我会带一些曲棍球的海报过来。”
校车驶离停车场时,布赖恩拍了拍克里斯的肩膀。“刚才听到你们俩讨论了。我会带我的保龄球奖杯。得了五呢。知道吗,我每周都去打。你们肯定不知道怎么计分,其他同学肯定也不知道。我会讲解的,很复杂,知道吧。”“是啊。”克里斯说,他转过身去坐在自己的座位上,这样他就不用再跟布赖恩搭话了――布赖恩总是让他心烦意乱。
“别信他的,”尼克悄声说,“他是我见过的保龄球打得最烂的人。”“但他的奖杯要从哪儿弄来呢?”尼克耸耸肩。“从他爸那儿借几个吧,我猜。他这人挺假的。”校车放慢了速度。“嘿,我到站了。再见。”
回到家,克里斯拿出了自己一盒盒的棒球卡。他喜欢棒球,甚至还会打一点点。但他真正的爱好让他可以发挥想象力来表达自己,那才是他最喜欢做的。
克里斯整理着那些卡片,开始从中挑出一些最好的。他还想过把艾伯特・皮若尔给他签了名的那个球带过去。但他对自己决定要做的感觉不对。
周二过去了。克里斯收集了他的棒球物品,把它们放在一个杂货袋中,上面写着“我最大的爱好”。他为周五做好了准备,但还是有什么东西感觉不对。他走出自己的房间,没管桌上的速写本。
周三。放学后,克里斯坐在厨房餐桌旁,桌上放着一个芝士番茄酱三明治和一杯牛奶,但他不饿。
“怎么了?”克里斯的哥哥韦斯问道,足球训练归来的他推门而入。“没什么。”克里斯嘟囔着。韦斯从食品柜中拿出一包椒盐脆饼。克里斯磨磨蹭蹭地吃着三明治。“嘿,今天尼克说布赖恩是个骗子。”“为什么?”“因为他谎话连篇。编些谎话来向大家卖弄吧,我猜。”“噢,”韦斯说,大声嚼着一片椒盐脆饼,“那我想尼克说的肯定没错。布赖恩听上去挺假的。”“我不想骗人。”克里斯说。“你为什么要骗人呢?”克里斯想了一会儿。“不为什么。”“那就好。”韦斯说着离开了厨房。
克里斯叹了口气。他不想骗人,但他不确定他有勇气告诉所有人自己真正的爱好是什么。大家会对他进行口头攻击的。
他慢慢嚼着三明治,想到了奶奶。他最初对这个爱好产生兴趣就是因为奶奶。“你有天赋。”奶奶曾骄傲地对他说,还称赞他的作品。那种感觉太棒了。
突然间,克里斯知道自己该怎么做了。他把三明治扔在了盘中,飞快地跑到电话旁。“嗨,奶奶,我是克里斯。我需要您的帮助。”
……
周五上午。
“准备好了吗,克里斯?”格里斯韦尔夫人问。班里所有人都转头去看他。克里斯走到教室前面,手里紧紧抓着自己的杂货袋。他的心怦怦直跳,双腿感觉在颤抖。我做不到!他抓狂地想。“来吧,给我们讲讲你的爱好。”格里斯韦尔夫人微笑着说。克里斯点了点头。赶快讲完就好,他告诉自己。不要让他们看到你出汗,他记得在哪里看过这句话。
于是他开始了。“我会设计东西。我是说……我设计衣服和配饰。”果然!来了――咯咯的笑声和嘲讽声。“我是一名时尚设计师。”他拿出自己的速写本,快速翻页展示自己设计的夹克、帽子、裤子和衬衫。
“我奶奶也设计衣服,”他解释道,“画图、缝制方面的所有知识都是她教给我的。”还是有几声窃笑,尽管格里斯韦尔夫人在摇头[示意他们不要笑]。
但当克里斯从自己的袋子中拿出一条发带并戴在头上时,班里安静了下来。“这是我为男生设计的配饰之一。我把黑色和蓝色的绳子编织起来,并在额头中间的位置嵌上了一小块扁平的石头。”他听到尼克说:“酷!”
“女孩的话,是用粉色和紫色的绳子编织而成的,配上了一枚小贝壳。”
“好喜欢啊!”安布尔大叫。其他几个女孩也拼命地点头。