Word: thaws
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Across the jagged Badlands, over the rolling plains of stubble wheat, and even in Watford City (pop. 1,087), there were still solid patches of snow. But the miracle had happened. Throughout North Dakota, the big thaw had come. The hard-bitten men who farm the northern tip of the onetime poverty-stricken U.S. "dust bowl" had survived a decade of dust, drought. WPA, grasshoppers, mortgages. Now, after a three-year spell of war and golden weather, they could afford a little fun in town...
...must admit it is necessary to have a spring blizzard before it is possible to have a spring thaw, and both are an indication of what a young man's fancy turns to in such times. For proof we point the guilty finger toward Jack Ashley, of machine tool fame, who this week cund a recipient finger for his stories. And if you're still not convinced, please note the potential international complications in store for Dewey Miller in his affair with the Countess from Austria. Be careful she's not pulling a Don Carlos on, you, D. M., these...
Overnight the temperature bounced up 40°, flowers bloomed in Kiev and Moscow, everyone came down with a cold. Thaw time had come: the great Red winter campaign was near its calendar...
...this might well have made Grandpa Longstreet a character to end all recollections of the Diamond Jim Brady-Stanford White-Harry K. Thaw-Anna Held era. But Nine Lives with Grandfather is not that good a book. At best, it is readable, escapist nonfiction, often amusing but seldom really funny. At worst, it is merely the sixth book in two years by 33-year-old Stephen Longstreet, a prolific writer who also operates under at least four pseudonyms and who draws almost as facilely as he writes...
...grey, placid Hudson, the thin February sun warmed the riverbend known for three centuries as Long Reach. The wind of the thaw, mild and clean-smelling, searched through the ancient maples and the baby spruce over the 1,200 acres...