Word: cactuses
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...looms up out of the cactus and tumbleweed like a vast tombstone: a sprawling airplane hangar, 60,000 sq. ft., large enough to house a 747, edging up to the shimmering tarmac of a remote airfield in the Arizona desert, 90 miles southeast of Phoenix. On a wall within is a 4 ft.-by-3 ft. plaque that reads "George Arntzen Doole (1909-1985). Founder, Chief Executive Officer, Board of Directors of Air America Inc., Air Asia Company Limited, Civil Air Transport Company Limited." The plaque is the only memorial to a man who created and ran what was once...
...couldn't take his eyes off her. There was a woman on the shore of the creek behind her. She wasn't fishing, though. Not this lady. She had a portable radio, and a bottle of Jose Cuervo, and an old faded blanket, all yellow, like a cactus flower. One day I looked at her, and she didn't turn away. So I went over and talked to her. And the next week we were married. In Reno. By a Mexican. Name of Juan Carlos. But we got tired of each other, and the more our love faded, the more...
Women also tend to decorate their rooms with plants, students say. When men do have plants, they rarely choose flowery ferns, relying on more hearty specimens. "My roommate bought a cactus. It's the only plant that could survive in our room," says a male Lowell House sophomore...
...outlook it produces is skewed, it does give non-Texans a thorough exposure to a remarkable, offbeat place and its equally remarkable and offbeat people. Anyone who can remember one tenth of the details will be a walking encyclopedia of things Texan from the number of types of cactus in Big Ben National Park to the unlikely origin of "The Yellow Rose of Texas." Texas isn't a bad combination of Trivial Pursuit and Dallas, but it isn't a good way to get to know Texas either...
...first spring in memory, HoHoKam Park in Mesa, Ariz., does not seem to be laughing at the Chicago Cubs. The place still brims with pensioners, but fewer of them than usual are in uniform. Two hours before a Cactus League game with Milwaukee, outfielders are sprinting, base runners are drilling, and pitchers are covering first on bunts. Even a character as unromantic as the Cubs' 6-ft. 5-in. general manager, Dallas Green, the last baseball executive still executing on physical fear, is moved to murmur, "They're ready." He is referring to the fans, not the players. "They want...