Word: barnful
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Cats, love 'em or hate 'em, are a hot number. Plain or fancy, pampered or ignored, barn mousers or apartment pets, they have captured the American imagination. They are becoming a national mania. In fact, cats are even gaining on dogs. Thirty-four million cats-often in multiples-inhabit 24% of America's households, an increase of 55% in the past decade. The dog population, meanwhile, has stabilized in recent years at some 48 million. In Washington, D.C., and New York, feline adoptions from animal shelters have zoomed 30% in the past three or four years. Cats...
Outside the simple sheep barn, a few visitors take their last look at Leahy's New England village, set behind a large pond. Others crane at the 40-ft.-tall plastic man or gaze fondly over the fairground. Some vendors wear black armbands, but it is a futile gesture of mourning. Buying their last baked potato with sour cream and bacon, taking their last aim at ducks in the gallery shoot, or sizing up a young heifer, most visitors seem oblivious or indifferent to the fact that they are among the last to attend the Great Danbury State Fair...
...playtime purposeful. On the prairie, leisure hours consisted of quilting bees and barn raisings. In New England, a relaxed weekend in the late 1800s was a practice muster of local fire companies. The country has always blended its fun with self-improvement and dreaming up gimmicks large and small to help. In young democracies like the U.S., Alexis de Tocqueville wrote, "each generation is a new people." The cult of youthfulness and the idea of a fresh start have forged the national character...
...snappish dog was unnecessary in the days before Garp. But after his smashing success, Irving's 19th century converted red barn became a target for autograph seekers and scraggly youths offering to do odd jobs for a chance to receive Garpian wisdom at the feet of their reluctant guru. In fact, before Irving's rugged head was known to the nation, the author was a Putney person who did advertise...
...your life back like some kind of ornamental shrub. I couldn't put the old white horse out to pasture, hock the tin armor, stand the lance in the corner of the barn. For a while, yes. For the healing time...