"Hibiscus" içeren İngilizce örnek cümleler

Do you sell the hibiscus?
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The project is part of a research initiative to see which plants are best suited for rooftop environments, both for food as well as pollination. They include hibiscus, strawberries, tomatoes and sweet potatoes.
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“In the U.S., it may not seem very common to use hibiscus leaves and sweet potato leaves as food, but in many places around the world it is,” Arlotta said.
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Rupa Trivedi in Mumbai, India, creates a range of colors from marigold, hibiscus and rose flowers and coconut husks.
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The small garden is bursting with produce from raised, hydroponic beds of parsley seedlings to hibiscus growing in old tires to rows of eggplant, tomatoes, and turnips planted in peanut shells and rice hulls to improve the sandy soil.
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Ker's mother was forced to be a concubine and to work in the garden, and Ker was forced to gather red hibiscus leaves for tea and to tend to the goats.
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She extracts beautiful colors from turmeric, while Rupa Trivedi in Mumbai, India, creates a range of colors from marigold, hibiscus and rose flowers and coconut husks.
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These days, I am wearing my red touque with orange letters in Tagalog, "MGA AWSTRALYA ANG MGA ESTRELYA," alluding to space colonization and the cold and hot deserts of other worlds. These days, I talk with Greg, my religious Filipino friend, at Starbucks café. We talk about travelling, anthropology, international food, and religion. This morning, I played in the midst of dense fog in a neighbourhood grassy field. At Starbucks café, in the foggy morning, I was drinking my reddish Passion Tango iced tea, which contained hibiscus, lemongrass, cinnamon, passion fruit, pineapple, and so forth. Greg gifted me a chocolate croissant. At Starbucks café, in the grey-sky afternoon, I was drinking the seasonal Oat Nog Latte. (Incidentally, Nog is a dwarf-like Ferengi alien character in the Star Trek franchise.) Kristina, part-Inuit part-Norwegian, was my barista. She has a handsome face, and her mannerisms and style reflect some things about her Inuit ancestors. "Viktor, it's like you're part-Inuit," she told me. She knows that I am from the Philippines. At my table, I exercised with my hand grip strengthener, which I carried in my army jacket pocket. At the café, I greeted Don the alluring white man and Květa the solitary Czech lady, as I exited. It is the 4th of December of 2024.
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Today is the 14th of January of 2025. It was night at Time Hortons café. I ate Sea Salt Potato Wedges with Wildberry Hibiscus Lemonade Quencher. Joban the South Asian was my vendor. In the morning, I had a couple or more cups of Green Tea with Oat Milk, which, someone expressed, "tastes like ice cream." It was night at Starbucks café. I ate two Belgian Liège Waffles. The Brown Sugar Oat Cortado interestingly tasted like jackfruit. I was going to tell the Japanese-Anglo hybrid Chris the barista or Jess the Anglo barista. Money is just an inhibitor, sometimes. Money is poverty, sometimes. Life should always be sensual, a sensory wonderland. Life is ephemeral, full of fleeting experiences. Do I believe in the Akashic Records, the memory compendium about everything? The following day of the 15th, I saw Hans the Netherlander in his motorized wheelchair at Tim Hortons. We sat near the sun-drenched bay window, as we chatted and ate Sea Salt Potato Wedges. I was drinking Orange Pekoe tea with Oat Milk for a change.

After 9 in the sunny, blue-sky morning, I walked to Starbucks café, there to drink Passion Tango iced tea, which contained hibiscus, lemongrass, cinnamon, passion fruit, pineapple, and so forth. Mark, Pepe, and Jason dropped by, and I greeted them. Mark is a second-generation Japanese-Canadian. Pepe is from Chile. And Jason is an Anglo whom I call "Mr. Sci-fi." In fact, we call each other "Mr. Sci-fi," despite that he claims that I am more "sci-fi" than he is. I mentioned today the book, The Silmarillion, by J.R.R. Tolkien, but it is really more of a fantasy-genre book. Homebound, I wandered through Dunoon Drive to view the big pink magnolia blossoms. Later in the day, I will venture again to St. Albans Road to wander through the bloom-fall of sakura, the pink cherry-blossom trees.

It's a grey cloudy morning this summer day of the 22nd of June of 2025. Before dawn, I had a snack of two tofu fish cuttlefish corn potato tangerine pork rolls with strawberries. Around 8, I was at Starbucks café, there to drink Passion Tango iced tea, which contained hibiscus, lemongrass, cinnamon, passion fruit, pineapple, and so forth. I waited for my religious Baptist Filipino friend, Greg, who was there usually on Sundays at that time, but he didn't show up. Then, I walked to Tim Hortons café to drink an iced coffee with oat milk and eat a sausage English muffin. There were families. There were several ex-Soviet bachelors who spoke Russian. Before 10, I trekked towards the Roman Catholic church at St. Albans Road. I admired the bamboo grove and the Emerald Tree on the way. At the church, there were already some worshippers in the nave: many Filipinos, and some Hispanics and Cantonese. The Filipina nun in her habit was talking to some Filipinas in the lobby area. They were admiring someone's blue skirt, which cost 80 dollars. Today, this morning, many blue hydrangeas adorned the front of the nave, inside. (There is interest in Interlingua.) Yesterday and today counted as my 50th and 51st visits to that church, the "Clam Temple" as I call it because of its architecture. Some people wore beige, an interest in Chabacano. When I walk outside, I usually talk to rabbits in Lojban: "coico'o ractu" (Hello-bye rabbits!). I'm often like Dr. Dolittle.

A hot, sunny, blue-sky day is today, the 16th of July of 2025, here on Lulu Island. As usual, I walk several times to Tim Hortons café for drinks and snacks. Today was my 70th time this year to the "Clam Temple," the Roman Catholic church at St. Albans Road. There were Polish workers doing something with the big wooden doors. I love Science, though I'm a spiritual Syncretist. At the Bamboo Grove, rose leaves littered the compost, full of fragrant rotting apples. Yesterday, the 15th, at the café, after a long time, I saw my Filipina friend Alma, an ex-worker at 7-Eleven, with her already teenage son. Then, also at the café, I saw the familiar father and daughter, who are Tahitians from New Zealand. The girl wore a pale yellow-orange hibiscus flower on her right ear. Then, I saw the familiar big Japanese-looking man mending his beige shorts at the café: "Chabacano!" he whispered. I've been eating lots of tofu lately at home.