Sentences that describe the rough hands of the elderly, sentences that describe the older hands of t

Beautiful sentences describing the palms and backs of the hands.

The sentence that describes the old man's hands is relatively old is as follows:

1. It's not dexterous, it won't sew clothes for me, it's not smooth, it feels like sandpaper. But it was these rough hands that held up a piece of heaven for me as a child.

2. The palms are very wide, covered with clear lines and slightly protruding blood vessels, as well as dense hairs on the arms.

The most different thing about the hand is that the index nail of the left hand is "split in two", which is divided into two halves.

3. The whole hand is not black, but it is a little red, the lines of the hand are very deep, and there are many calluses where the fingers are connected to the palm.

I touched it with my hand, and it was hard and prickly.

4. In the memory of growing up, there is always a pair of hands from my father, which are big and dexterous, warm and powerful.

5. I have never felt that my father's hands are so rough. The cracks, the ravines that resemble the bark of old pine trees, make people feel so old.

6. The hands of the kiss have cracks one after another, and on the wide hand, it seems to be a ravine; The hands are very rough, and when you touch them, they only feel like a piece of sandpaper; The hands, very deep, always speak softly in silence.

7. A father's hand can do anything for his beloved daughter, but I have never looked carefully at my father's hand, what a pair of vicissitudes of life!

8. It is these vigorous hands that hold me from childhood to adulthood, it is this pair of vigorous hands that take me to try all kinds of "firsts" in life, it is these vigorous hands that point me in the direction when I am confused, and guide me when I am confused, and it is these vigorous hands that make me feel the warmth of love forever.

The old man's hand was not straightened by any finger, and it was calloused inside and out, and the whole thing really looked like a small rake made of tree branches.

On the edge of the garden not far from me, there was an old farmer, his weather-beaten face was covered with deep wrinkles, his two little eyes were a little cloudy, his hands were the size of a small thin fan, and each finger was so thick that it seemed that it could not be bent, **wrinkled, a little like tree bark.

The old man's fingers were as thin as crab legs.

As a result of years of hard work, the back of my grandfather's hand was rough like old pine bark, cracked one after another, and several thick calluses were worn out on the palms of his hands.

His hands often used ropes to pull large fish, leaving deep scars. But none of these scars are new. They are as old as eroded places in deserts where there are no fish to hunt.

Everything about him seemed ancient, except for the eyes, which were as blue as the sea, and they were pleasant and unwilling to admit defeat.

My grandmother is half a hundred years old, but she has a full head of black hair, only a little white hair to set off. Her back was slightly hunched by standards. The eyes are a little small, and the corners of the eyes sometimes show obvious wrinkles.

Her hands are a little rough, with the calluses peculiar to the elderly in the countryside, and she is a hard-working and simple rural housewife.

The sunlight and the constant movement of his fingers had completely restored his cramped left hand, and he set about putting a little more strain on it, and shrugging the muscles in his back to move the line away a little and change the sore spot.

My grandfather was a white-haired man in his sixties. He wore a pair of reading glasses on his high cheekbones, and a kind smile always hung on his wrinkled face. My grandfather worked as a shoe repairer since he was a teenager. He had worked for so many years that the thumb of his left hand had become crooked and deformed.

He pulled out his hand, which had been fumbling in a pile of iron a second before, and wiped it haphazardly across his face, as if trying to wipe away all the heat. When I looked again, I saw that the wrinkled face had turned into a large flower face, which was quite dramatic.

The green tendons on the wood-like hands are clearly visible, and the gray hair on the head has the tendency of "surrounded by the region". Yes! The years don't leave anyone behind, ......

There are such hands, the blood vessels protrude, the nails are yellowish, full of cracks, full of folds, not smooth, slightly rough, but the palms of these hands are very steady. It's such a pair of hands, hands that people can rely on steadily.

These hands, with so many wrinkles, are so deep, like the roots of old trees dug out of the col.

His hands were so rough that they looked like they were covered with thorns, and anyone who touched them looked as if they would be pricked with blood.

It wasn't the red round hand I remembered, but it was thick, clumsy, and cracked, like pine bark.

His fingers were thick, his thumb was like a turnip, and his nails were thick like bronze coins.