Word: waterers
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...tremendously greater growing potential on private timberland, most have been freely exploited and are now damaged and underproductive. Doesn't it seem reasonable that there should be "federal limitations on logging operations" on national forests so that the forests can add stability and a sustained yield of water, wildlife, recreation and forage, as well as wood, for people now and in future generations? Why not put the blame for high lumber and plywood prices where it belongs- on the market-managing lumber and plywood industries...
...blaming poor old General Motors for the year-old junkheap parked in our drive. Blaming them for the stuck accelerator, which has given us such a hair-raising ride at least a dozen times (and which, of course, was "fixed" each time by their mechanic). Blaming them for the water that pours in each time it rains. (After the mechanic "fixed" the leak with at least a gallon of tar.) Even blaming them for the backfiring, running hot, the gear lever falling off, emergency brake handle working improperly, leaking oil, and I could go on and on. When...
...large raised bed in the other), no heating, no lights, no plumbing. For warmth and light there was the one fireplace (in the living room) and the half-dozen or so tall standing lights to be used in the shooting. For a bathroom, there was the woods. For running water, there were the gas-station johns in town...
...degree climb. In her latest film, 100 Rifles, she plays a Yaqui Indian temptress romanced by a U.S. lawman (Jim Brown). Her accent, like her blouse, keeps slipping; her emotional range is strictly Mount Rushmore. Yet she provides the torpid western with its most convincing scene. Under a water tower, showering in a shirt, she stops a train dead in its tracks. 100 Rifles makes it official: Raquel wet and draped is sexier than most actresses nude and dry. Along the way, audiences can review Raquel's entire body of work-a group of three poses...
...years she and Curtis traipsed around Europe just ahead-but not too far ahead-of the photographers. By his count, their chauffeur banged up four Cadillac limousines outrunning the press. Raquel took to carrying a water pistol so that she could drill an occasional paparazzo who leaned in the car a little too far. But what could one do? Journalists were everywhere. Was it her fault that she kept getting shot in bikinis and microskirts and plunging necklines? Was she to blame if some 80 magazines put her on their covers...