Word: amide
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...Amid the confusion of passing trucks and landing airplanes, my services as a Russian interpreter were in great demand, stretching my technical vocabulary to the limit. I was asked to come quickly and sort out a bizarre accident on the airfield. The wing tip of a passing Ilyushin 76 cargo plane had somehow clipped the tail of a parked Air Europe Boeing 757. Both aircraft were stuck in place. I tried to explain to an ever changing group of airport workers that the British pilot needed a small tow truck and strong steel cables to move his plane forward...
...section of a supermarket. At lunch in the Sutton Place townhouse of U.N. Secretary-General Javier Perez de Cuellar, Mrs. Reagan interrupted Mrs. Gorbachev's lecture on the need for the two nations to become more open with one another. "Haven't we? Haven't we?" she cut in. Amid the shop-till-you-drop types, Barbara Bush was the only guest wearing the kind of suit a grandchild could spill apple juice on with impunity. She raised the room temperature 30 degrees by engaging in the kind of small talk that keeps international incidents from breaking...
...many of them wandering in shock through buildings crumpled like paper. As the hours went by, the death toll climbed: 10,000, then 30,000, then, on Saturday, the first official estimate of 40,000 to 45,000. But the numbers continued to rise. The only sign of hope amid this swath of misery was the outpouring of aid to the Soviet Union that began flooding in from around the world...
...during a year of anguish. She still oversees her large household with a firm hand, although providing the daily necessities is no longer a simple task. She has drawn up a stringent budget that allocates her husband's paycheck entirely for groceries and the children's clothes and medicine. Amid shortages and strikes, the simple act of buying food has turned into a time-consuming, frustrating chore. Meat is rarely served at her table; even chicken or frozen fish appears no more than once a week...
...wolves and demons. The conditions of medieval labor did not, to put it mildly, foster belief in happy flute-playing rustics. The rediscovery of Vergil and Theocritus changed that. First in poetry and then in painting, the glimmering, closed Theocritean landscape where gods and shepherds pursue nymphs and shepherdesses amid the boskage was reconstructed. You know, looking at Dosso Dossi's The Three Ages of Man, about 1520-25, that its vision of harmonies between childhood, vigorous youth and sagacious age in the midst of a deliciously mellow nature is a fiction, but it has still not lost its power...