SMALL WHITE ACCENT TABLE. ACCENT TABLE

Small White Accent Table. Living Room Coffee Tables. Coffee Table Book Publishing

Small White Accent Table


small white accent table
    small white
  • small widely distributed form
  • The Small White (Pieris rapae) is a small- to medium-sized butterfly species of the Yellows-and-Whites family Pieridae. It is also commonly known as the Small Cabbage White and in New Zealand simply as white butterfly.
  • The Small White or Small Yorkshire was a breed of domestic pig originating in the United Kingdom and which was common during the nineteenth century. It is now extinct, but its characteristics were used in producing the Middle White and other breeds.
    accent
  • A mark on a letter, typically a vowel, to indicate pitch, stress, or vowel quality
  • A distinctive mode of pronunciation of a language, esp. one associated with a particular nation, locality, or social class
  • emphasis: special importance or significance; "the red light gave the central figure increased emphasis"; "the room was decorated in shades of grey with distinctive red accents"
  • distinctive manner of oral expression; "he couldn't suppress his contemptuous accent"; "she had a very clear speech pattern"
  • stress: to stress, single out as important; "Dr. Jones emphasizes exercise in addition to a change in diet"
  • A distinct emphasis given to a syllable or word in speech by stress or pitch
    table
  • a piece of furniture having a smooth flat top that is usually supported by one or more vertical legs; "it was a sturdy table"
  • Present formally for discussion or consideration at a meeting
  • a set of data arranged in rows and columns; "see table 1"
  • postpone: hold back to a later time; "let's postpone the exam"
  • Postpone consideration of
small white accent table - Small Mosko
Small Mosko Lamp Color: Honey
Small Mosko Lamp Color: Honey
LMPMOSKO-Honey Color: Honey Available in 3 finishes! This Mosko lamp adds a level of sleek sophistication to any room. Featuring solid wood construction and a white fabric shade, this elegant lamp is sure to softly accent your home's decor without adding stark drama. Seen as a contemporary must-have in any room, this eye-pleasing lamp is available in 3 finishes, is UL approved, and requires one 60 watt bulb. Features: -Mosko theme -Table lamp -Solid wood construction -White fabric shade -UL approved -Takes one 60 watt bulb -Available in black, honey, and dark walnut! -Overall dimensions: 27.5'' H x 13.5'' W x 13.5'' D

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Open Door by Daryl Henry - Flying N13340 To Hemet in 1960
Open Door by Daryl Henry - Flying N13340 To Hemet in 1960
On the ramp at Orange, Massachusetts, the white with blue-trim Noorduyn Norseman glistened in the chill of a November dawn. Stacked to within a foot of its deck-head with student parachutes, it was bound for California where Jacques Andre Istel had opened his newest parachuting school at Hemet. It was the day after Thanksgiving, 1960. The Canadian-built bush plane, with the Parachutes Incorporated logo on the tail, would make the trip west in four ponderous legs. Jacques would be pilot-in-command. Walt Penn would fly right seat. There were two passengers: Ann Montagu, a comely and intrepid English skydiver, and me. Ann and I were wedged into the rear bench seat, cut off from the cockpit by the cargo of student rigs. Ann's reason for the ear-rattling, bone-numbing trip: she wanted to explore America. I was less a volunteer than a conscript-- I'd just been hired as an instructor-on-probation. The four of us congregated at a downtown diner for a pre-dawn breakfast. Dehydrated-- no doubt due to nervous anticipation of my first day under Jacques' percipient gaze-- I drank hungrily of orange juice and coffee. So did Ann. Jacques and Walt prudently took their coffee along in a thermos. The first three hours south-west over New York and Pennsylvania were uneventful. We flew at 4500 feet through scattered clouds. The outside temperature was just above zero. Ann and I shivered in the back, passing the time playing Battleship on scratch pads. But I was increasingly uncomfortable. Somewhere in the thin air over Scranton my bladder reached the bursting point. I dared not mention it to the serene Ms. Montagu. The game went blithely on. She sank my submarine. The cold forced us to snuggle together for warmth. After a while Ann turned to me, her dark eyes plaintive. I anticipated an advance, even an innuendo. "Dawrul,” she said, “I have a frightful urge." "Really?" I said, encouraged. "To go to the toilet," she said. Disappointed, I crawled to the top of the stack of parachutes, wormed my way forward until my head emerged between pilot and co-pilot. “What iz eet, Darel?" Jacques inquired. "It's Ann," I said, "she has a frightful urge.” “Eh?” said Jacques. “To go the toilet.” "Tell her we are landing for gas in one hower," he replied. I slithered backwards over the mountain of chutes, mumbling to myself. Another hour? I'd been waiting three already. Ann was equally shocked. "I cannot possibly wait another hour," she declared, sounding like a courtier. I betrayed my own distress with a grimace. "We'll have to," I said. Battleship was forgotten. We spent the time pressing knees together and biting teeth. After half an hour Ann said, "It won't do, I have to go. Now." I had an idea. Again I squirmed up to the cockpit. "Have you guys finished your coffee?" I inquired casually. "Yep," drawled Walt. "Could we borrow your thermos?" I asked. They both turned. The anguish in my face was persuasion enough. Jacques passed me the empty thermos. I inched my way back to our little grotto in the rear. I held out the thermos to Ann. She sighed in relief and began unzipping her jump suit. "Do you think you could save me some room?" I asked her. She looked from me to the thermos-- the two-cup thermos-- and shrugged. I smiled weakly. I turned discreetly away as Ann satisfied a considerable portion of her urge, then passed me the thermos-- three-quarters full. It was her turn to smile weakly. I unzipped my coveralls. She turned discreetly away. Naturally I had to rein in before achieving even a hint of relief. Necessity gave birth to another idea. "Hold this," I said, handing her the thermos. I crawled over her to the jump door, cleared a space between the parachutes stacked there. As Norsemen devotees know, the door was four-feet high, aluminum frame, fabric-covered, held in place with leading-edge locking pins top and bottom. The handle was aft, well-worn. I cracked the door three inches. The wind wailed. A muffled interrogation drifted back from the cockpit, French accent. No time to answer. I pushed the mouth of the thermos out the door and tipped it upside down. The contents emptied into the slipstream, then-- surprise-- blew back into the cabin. Ann covered her face. I was too slow. Temporarily blinded, I fumbled to refill the thermos, all appendages now blue with cold. I'd barely begun when the door groaned like a chain-sawed tree and slipped from its locking pins. The only thing holding it closed was the slipstream and my desperate hold on the handle. With the other hand I lunged for the tubular frame, holding tight, yelling for her to dig some suspension line from my knee pocket. With it, I managed to lash the door to the inside of the cabin. Triumphant, I began to relieve myself into the thermos again. Suddenly the suspension l
Rick's Review in Maine Sunday Telegram
Rick's Review in Maine Sunday Telegram
Rick’s redefining the familiar in impossible-to-resist style by CZ Cramer for Maine Sunday Telegram “Taste & Tell”. We recently enjoyed a very fine dinner at Rick's, the new restaurant in Portland's East End. This renovated storefront is now a pretty cafe, freshly painted and cleverly partitioned to maximize what had been little more than a large square room. The track lighting is dim and glowing, and the antique desk used for reception , the wooden sideboard used to store table settings and condiments, and the old pine swinging doors to the kitchen add warmth and charm to the atmosphere. Our waiter brought the bottles of Oregon's King's Ridge pinot noir ($6.25) and California's Blackstone merlot ($5.50 to pour us a glass each while we studied the menu. The dinner menu begins with hot and cold categories of "small dishes." The cold ones include salads such as Belgian endive with smoked chicken ($8), romaine and white anchovies with roasted garlic dressing ($7), and tomato and fresh mozzarella ($8). The hot appetizers include a soup of the day ($6), a roasted vegetable quesadilla ($8), and champagne-steamed mussels with saffron ($9). We chose a salad of snow peas and shitake mushrooms with lobster ($8) and crab cakes with a fried pear and watercress salad ($11). While we waited, our waiter brought us a basket of hot, grilled slices of baguette from Portland's Standard Banking Co., and grilled triangles of flat lavash. These were served with a little pot of pureed white bean spread. It was an extremely tasty variation on the usual bread and butter theme. The lobster salad was a little symphony of pleasant contrasts. A heap of julienned crisp, sweet snow peas and slivers of earthy mushroom were piled in the center of the plate and surrounded by hefty knobs of tail and knuckle lobster meat. A shelled claw stood upright on the green haystack. Spicy mustard dressing was drizzled around the circumference. Delicious flavors and a visually engaging presentation without fussiness. The crab cakes were two large, sizzling, crispy-edged beauties of seemingly pure crab meat with just a few bits of minced sweet red pepper for accent. I make no secret of my endless fascination for the Maine crab cake. When they are as good as these were, it is like hitting the jackpot. These terrific examples were accompanied by a nest of fresh watercress that had been tossed in the saute pan for the merest second and then topped with thin slices of sauteed pear. Lemon creme fraiche had been dabbed at the periphery for dipping. This highly original dish is really something. Main courses include a pasta and grains category in addition to seven meat and seafood dinners. There is risotto with lobster ($16) and two pasta dishes which are coincidentally vegetarian: white lasagna with grilled vegetables ($14) and fettucine with oven-roasted tomatoes, basil and pine nuts ($13). If the appetizers had demonstrated co-owner and chef Rick Barbata’s imagination with fresh, native ingredients, his version of fried chicken was proof positive of his skill at redefining the familiar. A thick, boneless breast had been “low-fried” (the menu’s term for not deep-fried) to perfect juiciness. All the pleasurable crunch and seasonings of southern fried chicken had been preserved, including a gravy with rich, concentrated flavor but non of the starchiness ($17). The accompanying mashed potatoes were hot, buttery and divine with the gravy. Medallions of pork loin with grainy mustard pan sauce was an equally impressive dish ($17). The sauce was a dark, rich reduction, and the flavorful por was tender and juicy. Roasted red potato wedges were hot and crisp outside and creamy within. Both dinners were served with very briefly sauteed fresh baby spinach garnished with a few slivers of charred sweet onion. This excellent side vegetable was emblematic of our entire dinner at Rick’s: Details mattered. Food was served piping hot. There were appropriate lulls between courses. Service was smooth and professional. Invisible hands refilled the water glasses. The music was varied and not too loud for conversation. There are entrees here of chicken pot pie ($14) and “Mom’s meatloaf” with mushroom gravy ($15). Having experienced the fried chicken, we look forward to trying more of the talented chef Rick’s sophisticated version of home cooking. Other entrees include seared scallops with lemon brown butter ($18) and grilled flank steak with charred sweet onions ($17). Mashed or roast potatoes, creamed spinach, stir-fried vegetables, and risotto with herbs are all available as side dishes ($4 each). A note at the bottom of the menu indicates substitutions are welcome. The wine list is very reasonable and a bit less creative than the food, although good solid choices are there. Four whites and four reds are available by the glass from $5 to $6.75. Our pinot noir and merlot (we had two glasses of each) were excellent with the food we ordered. Bottles ar

small white accent table
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