Word: birches
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...list of subversives and the internal-security program. When Quayle was five years old, Dwight Eisenhower carried Indiana with the help of Quayle's grandfather, publisher Eugene Pulliam, and William Jenner, who were, respectively, the right and the far right of the state Republican Party. When the John Birch Society was set up in 1958 with the thesis that Eisenhower had collaborated with communism, Quayle's parents became enthusiastic supporters of it. James Quayle compared Birch Society founder Robert Welch to the legendary prophet Nostradamus...
Tinder-dry jack pines, white and black spruce, poplar and birch trees exploded in the heat as more than 3 million acres of Canadian timberland went up in smoke during the past two weeks. Some 4,400 fire fighters battled 560 lightning-ignited fires that swept across northern Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Ontario. "The whole north is virtually blowing up on us," sighed Albert Driedger, Manitoba's minister for emergency services. With high winds pushing dense smoke toward Indian reservations, provincial premier Gary Filmon declared a state of emergency...
...Running your own business means you are controlling your own destiny," says M.I.T. research director David Birch, who has studied entrepreneurship. While starting a company rarely means more free time, it can promise greater satisfaction, autonomy and flexible working conditions. Freedom-minded men and women alike have recognized that technology and the restructuring of the economy, which so often work against individual peace of mind, can actually work for the small entrepreneur. The same computers and fax machines that torment corporate drudges allow small businesses access to world markets...
...person, without drinks or wine). Major hotels offer Western joint- venture seekers many distinctly unsocialist hard-currency attractions -- slot machines, for one -- while out on the sidewalks, better-dressed young people hurry by, oblivious to the stiff-knuckled old women sweeping the streets with birch-branch brooms...
...remind myself of the old man. Myself and I, as it happens, are having a dialogue, somewhat testy, thoroughly familiar. It is 7:35 on a chilly morning in late fall, and I am swinging an 8-lb. splitting maul, breaking up oak and birch trunks. Myself is feeling sorry for himself. Our back is stiff from yesterday's firewood fun. Our right wrist, broken years ago in a skiing accident, signals that it is time to stop. Middle-aged men drag themselves through life like wounded bears, it occurs...