Sentences with phrase «while everything about this house»

While everything about this house meets our exacting standards of durability, livability, and beauty, this home's crowning feature is its original, reclaimed barnwood trim.

Not exact matches

I do not understand the economics of the business well enough and there always seems to be contradictory reports about everything (dollars, skills, scheme fit etc.) From my admittedly naive, fan - based vantage point, we needed to strengthen the offensive line and the linebacker corp, add some punch to the running game (while keeping an eye on the draft for a fleet - footed youngster), and bring some leadership to a clubhouse that was akin to Animal House last year (of course, winning makes grown ups out of everyone).

It keeps your hands free while storing just about everything you might ever need for a day at the beach, pool or a weekend trip to grandma's house.

I specifically wrote about grams, rather than calories, as converting everything ingested in calories is deceitful; as proteins, fats and carbs are also used as buliding material, and calorie counters completly ignore it treating every piece of food as energy: it's like quantifying a wooden house by using joules, while you don't have an intention to burn it.

If I were Lila, Iâ $ ™ d move everything into a money market account for a while and sit on it for at least three weeks, then wait until I started feeling confident about the stock market again — or at least until I felt it was close to the bottom, which I donâ $ ™ t think weâ $ ™ ll see for another year unless there are tremendous cuts in interest rates (this last bit is solely my opinion from having watched the stupidity of the housing market over the last few years).

The game is filled with astounding vistas and huge monuments that break up the often large landscape, a landscape which admittedly while playing host to a small selection of side - quests is mostly empty, its size less about housing ridiculous amounts of guffins for the player than it is about just making everything seem vast.

, you are lying on the floor of your place looking up, a small draft runs through the room, between the door and the window, and all things seem perfectly still, wind only disturbs concrete in imperceptible ways, or it may take millions of years to be noticed and, as the air runs through the space, all your plants move and all is animated and all is alive somehow, and here are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, and that wind upon your plants is the common air that bathes the globe, and we have no ambitions of universalism, and I'm glad we don't, but the particles of air bring traces of pollen and are charged with electricity, desert sand, maybe sea water, and these particles were somewhere else before they were dragged here, and their route will not end by the door of this house, and if we tell each other stories, one can imagine that they might have been bathed by this same air, regrouped and recombined, recharged as a vehicle for sound, swirling as it moves, bringing the sound of a drum, like that Kabuki story where a fox recognizes the voice of its parents as a girl plays a drum made out of their skin, or any other event, and yet I always felt your work never tells stories, I tend to think that narrative implies a past tense, even if that past was just five seconds ago, one second ago was already the past, and human memory is irrelevant in geological time, plants and fish know not what tomorrow will bring, neither rocks nor metal do, but we all live here now, and we all need visions and we all need dreams, and as long as your metal sculptures vibrate they are always in the Present, and their past is a material truth alien to narrative, but well, maybe narrative does not imply a past tense at all and they are writing their own story while they gently move and breathe, and maybe nothing was really still before the wind came in, passing through the window as if through an irrational portal to make those plants dance, but everything was already moving and breathing in near complete silence, and if you're focused enough you can feel the pulse of a concrete wall and you can feel the tectonic movements of the earth, and you can hear the magma flowing under our feet and our bones crackling like a wild fire, and you can see the light of fireflies reflected in polished metal, and there is nothing magical about that, it is just the way things are, and sometimes we have to raise our voice because the music is too loud and let your clothes move to a powerful bass, sound waves and bright lights, powerful like the sun, blinding us if we stare for too long, but isn't it the biggest sign of love, like singing to a corn field, and all acts of kindness that are not pitiful nor utilitarian, that are truly horizontal as everything around us is impregnated with the deadliest violence, vertical and systemic, poisonous, and sometimes you just want to feel the sun burning your skin and look for life in all things declared dead, a kind of vitality that operates like corrosion, strong as the wind near the sea, transforming all things,

Intended as a project that will raise interesting questions about how common and public spaces could be redefined in an age where everything is relentlessly and greedily privatized for profit and the few, the Bow House is a «vertical extension of the property parcel» while positioning itself staunchly in the commons:

While a connected smoke alarm might sound a little over the top, it does mean that you can do something about it if you're out of your house, like check your home camera to see if there actually is a fire, or ask a neighbour to pop in and check if everything is ok.

The whole project took about six weeks and while it was stressful to have everything in our cabinets strewn all over the place, and people in and out of our house constantly, I'm so happy that we did it... and before the baby comes!