我并不常夸耀我的家乡,因为那实在是个再平常不过的地方。它坐落在山东潍坊的小乡村,地势平平的,小的一览无遗。而这一小块土地,却一度无法融进我心里。生命中的第一次凉意,从初识字时,土墙上写着的“生儿好传宗接代”七个大字,隐约向我袭来,而我恰是爸爸唯一的女儿。记忆中,奶奶从未给我讲过故事,从未带我串过门,也从未表扬过我第一次歪歪斜斜在纸上写出的阿拉伯数字。与奶奶生活在一起的那段时间,似乎每日三餐带着膻腥味儿的菜,是她在我生命里唯一留下的痕迹。从来到上海求学起,每年便 I do not often boast about my hometown, because that is an extraordinary place. It is located in Weifang, Shandong, a small village, flat, small at a glance. But this small piece of land, once unable to melt into my heart. The first coolness in life, from the beginning of literacy, the wall of the written “good son of the family” seven characters, vaguely hit me, and I just dad’s only daughter. In my memory, my grandmother never told me a story, never took me to the door, never praised my first crooked slogan on the paper to write the Arabic numerals. During my stay with my grandmother, it seemed that the three-day meal with the stench of fish was the only trace she had left in my life. Shanghai has always been to learn, every year