Word: leafed
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...When Straus conceived of his good old Levi’s during the California Gold Rush of the 1850s, his reasons were purely practical: to provide sturdy protection for the legs of gold miners. These days, the closest contact with gold I have is the sprinkling of edible gold leaf on my chocolate molten cake from Finale. So I wonder: with pencil, not dirt pick, in hand, are jeans a relic of the past? A bold assertion, followed by a question, that raises doubts about my sanity, I realize. But allow me to qualify my statement. I like boyfriend jeans...
...they stop to examine the male nudes, constantly bemoaning the placement of leaves or folds of cloth. Ollie was only too happy to encourage her.“Ah, signorina woulda like to have a little peek? She would like to see the trunk of da tree underneath da leaf?”“Perhaps you could tell me what kind of trunk I might be expected to find,” said Felicity, running her fingers down Prince Filippo’s purple velvet sleeve.“Ahem,” coughed Frederick, his voice breaking...
...isolation from the rest of the world, have taken some curious evolutionary turns. The nocturnal aye-aye, for instance, has a long, skeletal middle finger that enables it to retrieve grubs from inside trees; the hook-billed vanga evolved a curved bill for a similar reason, while the horned-leaf chameleon can change color to match the dead leaves on the floor of western Madagascar's dry deciduous forest...
...offer a pick of poisons: if not support for Iraq, then increased focus on Afghanistan. As voters in countries like Canada, Britain, and France have made clear, being against the war entirely can still be a viable alternative. It would be a grave error to mistake a laurel leaf for a white flag. For the time being, however, any discussion at all would be preferable to the bizarre public neglect of a country with which we are still at war. U.S. Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Adm. Mike Mullen has himself stated explicitly that it is not Afghanistan...
...drowned herself. Despite the gravity of the main character’s situation, he remains placid, just like the river Welty describes: “The sandbars were pink or violet drifts ahead. Where the light fell on the river, in a wandering from shore to shore, it was leaf-shaped spangles that trembled softly, while the dark of the river was calm.” Welty explores the full scope of humanity in her stories, despite the profound racial tensions of the society in which she lived. In “Powerhouse,” which was originally published...