Word: smoked
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...With salmon and wood smoke fragrant in the endless summer evening, amid wet socks and waders and red rubber fishing gloves, Palin tells TIME, "I cannot predict what's going to happen. I don't know what doors will be open or closed by then. I was telling Todd today, I was saying, 'Man, I wish we could predict the next fish run so that we know when to be out on the water.' We can't predict the next fish run, much less what's going to happen...
...windows (Blanche says the carpenter who built the place was "some hippie" who put in all the windows). They have two cottages - both also with bright orange doors - at the end of the driveway. One is a type of sauna with a wood-burning stove. The other is a smoke shack for fish. Their catch of the day is hanging from a clothing line strung from the shack to a tree. The driveway is littered with boots, gray-and-red-tipped fishing socks, waders, scooters, tricycles and a green yoga ball with bunny ears for kids to bounce...
...Then she shows me the smoke shack. "This is usually the subsistence catch," she says, gesturing to the gutted, smoked fish drying in the 10:45 p.m. sun, "which means it's just going to be for personal use." Todd hands me a frozen pack of smoked salmon from a freezer. "And it's the best-tasting stuff in the world after a couple of weeks of drying. People then store it away and eat it through the winter. But they smoke it there and dry it here...
...this sweltering Central American capital like firecrackers. Amid the onslaught of bullets on Sunday afternoon, hundreds of protesters ran for their lives, taking cover behind cinder-block walls or running into the homes of kindly residents. Five, 10, 15 minutes passed, and the automatic rifles kept going. Finally the smoke cleared to reveal the carnage: parts of the skull and brains of a teenage boy lay on the concrete; a bleeding man was being dragged unconscious into a pickup truck; a third victim hobbled with medics into an ambulance, a bullet stuck...
...Marina Krytikova sits at her kitchen table, the smoke from her cigarette mixing with the smell of lacquer as two doll sets dry on the tablecloth. The bellies of the roly-poly dolls depict stylized Russian scenes of dashing horses, young lovers and soaring eagles that Krytikova has copied over the years out of books of fairy tales, from greeting cards and even off the tops of cake boxes. "When I'm working, I forget about everything," she says as she peers over her glasses to paint intricate curlicues on the body of a large doll. "I forget about family...