caked

简明释义

英[keɪkt]美[keɪkt]

adj. 外表结块的

v. 结成块状（cake 的过去式和过去分词）

英英释义

单词用法

同义词

反义词

例句

1.My boots were caked with mud.

我的靴子上有厚厚的一层泥。

2.Chalk stains the rock and chalk-caked holds are actually worse to hang on to.

镁粉会污染岩壁，抓点上有了镁粉实际上也不好抓。

3.The blood caked around his mouth.

他的嘴的周围粘着血块。

4.Her shoes were caked with mud.

她的鞋上沾着污泥。

5.It's all about the caked on eyeliner and chain-smoked cigarettes here.

全都是结块的眼线妆和连续不断的香烟。

6.Her eyes went to his caked boots, and she only smiled complacently.

她的眼睛落到了他的粘着污垢的靴子，非常得意的微笑了。

7.The river caked with thick ice.

河里结着厚厚的冰。

8.His shoes were caked with mud.

他的鞋底满是泥块。

9.Look behind the fridge to see if coils have become caked with dust, dirt or pet hair, which can interfere with performance.

查看冰箱背后的镀锡卷板是否附着了灰尘、脏东西或是宠物的毛发，这会影响冰箱的性能。

10.The cookies were caked 堆积 with frosting on top.

这些饼干上 堆积 着糖霜。

11.After the rain, the ground was caked 结块 with dried mud.

下雨后，地面上 结块 着干泥。

12.The mud was so thick that it caked 结块 on his shoes.

泥巴厚得让他的鞋子上 结块 了。

13.The old paint had caked 剥落 and needed to be scraped off.

旧油漆 剥落 了，需要刮掉。

14.Her face was caked 涂满 with makeup for the party.

为了参加聚会，她的脸上 涂满 了化妆品。

作文

As I walked through the old, abandoned house at the end of the street, I couldn't help but notice how time had left its mark everywhere. The walls were caked with layers of dust and grime, a testament to years of neglect. Each step I took sent up small clouds of dirt that danced in the shafts of light filtering through the broken windows. The air was thick with the smell of mildew, and it felt as though the house itself was holding its breath, waiting for someone to breathe life back into it.In the corner of the living room, there was an old armchair that had seen better days. Its fabric was caked with stains, remnants of countless cups of coffee spilled during late-night conversations. I could almost imagine the laughter that once filled this space, echoing off the walls now covered in peeling wallpaper. The memories seemed to linger in the air, heavy yet fleeting.As I moved through the house, I found myself drawn to the kitchen. The countertops were caked with dried food splatters, long since hardened by time. It was clear that meals had been prepared here, family gatherings celebrated, and perhaps even arguments had erupted over dinner. The oven, still standing proudly despite its age, was caked with grease, a silent witness to years of culinary adventures and mishaps.I opened the fridge, expecting to find nothing but emptiness, but instead, I was met with a terrifying sight. The shelves were caked with mold, a vivid green and blue that looked like a painter's palette gone wrong. It was as if the very essence of decay had taken residence inside this appliance, a stark reminder of what once was and what could never be again.The bathroom was no better; the tiles were caked with soap scum and mildew, a grimy layer that made me shudder. I could only imagine the laughter of children splashing in the tub, the echoes of their joy now replaced with silence. The mirror, once shiny and bright, was now dull and foggy, caked with years of steam and neglect.Despite the decay, there was a certain beauty in the ruins. Each layer of dust and grime told a story, a history that was rich and textured. I found myself contemplating the lives that had passed through this house, the dreams that had been built within its walls, and the inevitable passage of time that had led to its current state.As I left the house, I took one last look back. The sunlight caught the dust motes swirling in the air, and for a brief moment, I felt a connection to the past. The house may have been caked in neglect, but it was also caked in memories. I realized that just like this house, we all carry our own layers of experiences, some beautiful, some painful, but all integral to who we are. Perhaps one day, someone would come along to restore this place, to strip away the layers of neglect and reveal the beauty that still lay beneath. Until then, it remained a silent guardian of its own stories, caked in time and memory.

当我走过街尽头那座古老的废弃房子时，不禁注意到时间在每个角落留下的痕迹。墙壁上覆盖着一层层灰尘和污垢，见证了多年的忽视。每走一步，我都会扬起小云朵的尘埃，在透过破碎窗户的光束中舞动。空气中弥漫着霉味，仿佛房子本身屏住了呼吸，等待着有人将生命重新注入其中。在客厅的角落里，有一把老旧的扶手椅，经历了更好的日子。它的布料上覆盖着污渍，残留着无数杯咖啡在深夜谈话中洒落的痕迹。我几乎可以想象那些曾经充满欢声笑语的时光，回荡在如今被剥落墙纸覆盖的墙壁上。记忆似乎在空气中徘徊，沉重而又短暂。当我走过这座房子时，厨房吸引了我的注意。台面上覆盖着干涸的食物溅落，早已被时间硬化。显然，这里曾经准备过饭菜，庆祝过家庭聚会，甚至可能发生过争吵。尽管年岁已久，仍然屹立不倒的烤箱上覆盖着油脂，静静见证着多年的烹饪冒险和失误。我打开冰箱，期待看到空荡荡的模样，却被可怕的景象震惊。架子上覆盖着霉菌，鲜艳的绿色和蓝色看起来像是一个画家的调色板搞错了。仿佛腐朽的本质在这个电器内安家，鲜明地提醒着曾经的存在和再也无法回归的现实。浴室的情况也好不到哪里去；瓷砖上覆盖着肥皂泡沫和霉斑，这层肮脏的东西让我打了个寒战。我只能想象孩子们在浴缸里嬉戏的欢声笑语，如今已被沉默取代。镜子曾经光亮明亮，如今却暗淡无光，覆盖着多年的蒸汽和忽视。尽管衰败，这些废墟中却有一种独特的美感。每一层灰尘和污垢都讲述着一个故事，丰富而有质感。我开始思考那些曾在这座房子中生活的人们，他们在墙内建立的梦想，以及不可避免的时间流逝导致了如今的状态。当我离开房子时，最后回头望了一眼。阳光照射在空气中旋转的尘埃颗粒上，短暂的时刻，我感受到与过去的联系。房子虽然覆盖着忽视，但也覆盖着记忆。我意识到，就像这座房子一样，我们每个人都承载着自己的经历层次，有些美丽，有些痛苦，但都是构成我们自身的重要部分。或许有一天，会有人来修复这个地方，剥去忽视的层次，揭示出仍然隐藏在下面的美丽。在那之前，它依然是自己故事的沉默守护者，覆盖着时间和记忆。