We hiked up to the old shealing where the shepherds kept their summer flocks.

She stacked the sheafs of wheat near the barn before the storm.

I can't believe she've decided to move abroad next month.

When my friends started debating how things could have gone differently, I told them, 'if my aunt had balls, she'd be my uncle.'

The botanist admired the sheaflike arrangement of the dried grasses.

The archival boxes contained sheafy bundles of medieval manuscripts tied with faded ribbons.

The historian wrote a detailed comparison of the island's six sheadings and their legal histories.

The museum tour explained how each sheading manages its own local customs and ceremonies.

Don't worry about her presentation — she'll be apples.

By the time I got there, she'd already left the café.