Word: lawn
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...change things, the more they can be encouraged." During the discussions, when it was pointed out that Chelsea Clinton's bedroom was on the vulnerable Pennsylvania Avenue side of the White House, the first response was to suggest that she be moved to the south side, where the huge lawn is a buffer. But secret reports of threats to the President and his family and the chilling calculations of the damage from a truck bomb were overwhelming. "It had to be done," said Coleman. "It would have been irresponsible not to have taken the action...
...believed a handshake on the White House lawn would turn Israel and the occupied territories into Eden. No one expected signatures on a document to satisfy extremists. No one thought a peace agreement would end all fear. But it was hoped that a peace agreement would bring something like peace. It has not, and as a result, Israelis and Palestinians alike are near despair over their famous accord signed in Washington less than two years...
This is wonderful news -- at least the company is moving in the proper direction-and if it's true, maybe I'll start using the IBM clone that sits on my desk, stupid as a lawn jockey. But this isn't about me. This is about what's good for the entire digital world. And what's good for the digital world has nothing to do with smart technology versus stupid technology. It has to do with who's biggest and most likely to put all the pieces together. More important, it has to do with someone finally being responsible...
...N.R.A. puts it. But as Randy Weaver looked out his window in a rural Iowa town last week, watching children play on the freshly mowed grass of a park across the street, he sounded more like a struggling single parent than an antigovernment desperado. The children on the lawn reminded him of Samuel, his 14-year-old son, who was shot and killed by federal agents. "He loved the outdoors," Weaver told a TIME reporter. "When we skinned deer, he would sharpen a knife as I cut into the hide. He did everything well. And my wife was so good...
...street. His oldest daughter, Sara, 19, who works as a waitress, has rented a house up the street. On some days, Weaver sits and sips coffee from a mug emblazoned with the German flag. When visitors drop by, he mixes White Russians in the kitchen. Outside on the small lawn, a jumble of bicycles lies scattered across the sidewalk. A battered white gas guzzler hunkers in the driveway. He says he is not working. Not doing much. Just waiting...