Word: sipped
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...look at these 20-ft. mountains of merchandise, from catsup to cameras, mustard to mufflers. Disoriented yet? This is the green zone, where groceries are sold. For everything from mouthwash to antifreeze, go to the blue zone. Tired? Here, sit down on one of the convenient wooden benches and sip some free cider or coffee with other weary shoppers...
Fetching coffee, the nurse placed a bib on Stephen, who has difficulty swallowing, gently held his head forward and poured the beverage, a sip at a time, into his mouth. Meanwhile, Hawking was responding to a question from a student who knelt to read the answer as it slowly took shape on the dim liquid-crystal screen. The conversation shifted to creativity and how mathematicians seem to reach a creative peak in their early 20s. Hawking's computer beeped. "I'm over the hill," he said, to a chorus of laughter...
...yells, "Look what I found!" Israel and the others gather around an old, 10-gal., green-glass water jug. There is a bit of water in the bottom. For a moment it almost seems that these salvage men, so thirsty for the details of the past, might take a sip of vintage 1907. But a 747 rumbles overhead, and the mood is broken. "Should we take the jug?" someone asks. "Sure," says Israel. "Somebody might want it." They pick up their tools and wander back to work...
...course of an average week, Robert M. Parker Jr., 40, will sniff, sip and spit his way through hundreds of bottles of wine (reds in the morning, whites in the afternoon). The opinions recorded at his daily tastings are written up primarily for the 21,000 subscribers (at $30 a year) to his influential, fact-choked bi-monthly newsletter, The Wine Advocate. Finally, some of the judgments will mature into a book. November marked the publication of his third, The Wines of the Rhone Valley and Provence (Simon & Schuster; $22.95); both sections of France, Parker believes, offer good bargains...
...Soviet negotiators were indeed taking seriously Gorbachev's anti- alcoholism campaign. In the past, working lunches at the Soviet mission had been well lubricated with Stolichnaya vodka and Armenian brandy. No more. Now the Soviets served their guests soda and fruit juice, with only a sip of Georgian wine during the meal. Even the rathskeller in the Soviet mission -- named the Albatross -- began serving orange juice rather than draft beer when Americans were entertained there...