Word: leaf
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...plans to remain there but will spend time also in Washington State with Ben's extended family, whom she's counting on "to help keep his memory alive for his children." When Ben was born in February 1973, his parents, following a family tradition, planted a tree, a lace-leaf maple, in their yard in Kent. A black ribbon now hangs on the tree, next to the yellow one the Colgans had attached earlier in the hopes he would return safely from Iraq. --By Maggie Sieger with Eli Sanders/Kent
michele crosera/reuters Craftsmen put the finishing touches on La Fenice (the Phoenix), the legendary theater in Venice that has been reborn, nearly eight years after it burned down. Painted angels once again hover among the five tiers of boxes, and 300,000 sheets of gold leaf gild the carved-wood and papier-mâché decor. The old bird's new feathers will be shown off this week with a festival featuring concerts by Elton John and the Vienna Philharmonic. Bravo...
...find it appealing—simply bears no relation to the world around us. The special relationship between the two countries seems, as far as the current administration in Washington is concerned, to exist only so that the British can support American foreign policies, thereby lending them the fig leaf of international legitimacy. Blair, for one, appears to be sincere in his conviction that pre-emptive action is the only way to stamp out the threat of international terrorism. Nevertheless, the belief that Britain is acting as nothing more than America’s lackey in a blinkered and immoral...
...everyone's happy. But we're not Europeans: we can't simply light up a Gauloise, unfold a copy of our partisan newspaper and jadedly admit that bias is inevitable--c'est la guerre! Boy-Scoutishly, we feel this is wrong, cynical, corruptly Old World. We need a fig leaf. Our news must call itself "unfiltered" or "fair and balanced." It must flatter both our world view and our belief in our fairness...
...store in a little village in southwest New Hampshire. My parents—as well as a few locals who heard about this piece pre-publication—insisted that I redact the town’s name from this article lest swarms of Crimson readers flock there for leaf-peeping or house-buying. This was probably unnecessary as most college students are not in the New England real estate market. Moreover, my new hometown is one of the smallest in the state and would-be passersby are deterred by the fact that no major roads go near...