Word: winters
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...unprepared for the experience, a deep connection to something I cannot articulate,” Hammer said, describing his experience living in the Delta for 10 years. “The [film’s] story came out of a desire to capture the Delta in winter...It has to do with a sense of sorrow on a profound level, as well as an appreciation for an intense beauty, and the two were married for me.” The film’s striking use of the Delta as both a backdrop and an important tonal and thematic element...
...George X. Huang ’12 is making promises to build an adult-sized playground on campus. “This is very ambitious,” his Facebook site acknowledges, “but a preliminary goal of 10-15 swing sets would be fantastic, even in winter.” In addition, he proposes a “bunny breeding” program to increase the presence of the furry animals on campus. The Facebook group for Agnes Z. Dardas ’12 says that she is “considering” advocating...
...always let it go. "That's my personality," Soto says. "In talking to my wife, I'll get pissed, and five minutes later, I'm cool. Even if I'm right." Give Soto's homeland some credit for his success. The Puerto Rico native has played five years of winter ball in the Caribbean, experience that makes him wise beyond his years. "Those are big games down there," says Towers. "He is catching big-league pitchers with games on the line. He's used to the pressure...
...Brunswick, N.J., restaurateurs Mark Pascal and Francis Schott, who run Catherine Lombardi Restaurant and host The Restaurant Guys radio show, are devoted to farm-to-table cuisine. They use their own preserved produce at the restaurant all winter long, storing the jewel-toned jars in their wine racks, and they're currently on track to put up about 10,000 lbs. of locally grown San Marzano plum tomatoes for use this winter. Ever economical, Pascal and Schott also dip into leftover canning liquid, especially from fruits, to jazz up cocktails at the bar. Months ago, they put up nectarines with...
...when the first signs of a frigid fall came along. Apparently, Cambridge’s change of seasons brings with it a flurry of sweatpants. It was a rude awakening to lose not only the sun, but also any semblance of a bright style—the doldrums of winter fashion had set in. Even going to lecture was painful, as my peers had no qualms about parading their frumpy digs all over campus. Coming from an ultra-preppy secondary school in the Midwest where fashion and grades were on equal terms, I have to say I was startled...