On Monday mornings, my grandfather is always the crabbiest person at breakfast.

The crabeaters lined the dock with baskets, ready to cook their catch.

In late spring, the crabapple trees in the old orchard burst into a cloud of pale pink blossoms that smell faintly of almonds.

Her Crabbean poems used plain language to expose the quiet struggles of rural life.

Local historians cataloged the abandoned crabberies along the rocky coast.

We set up camp near the crabbery to study the night-time behavior of the crustaceans.

At the seaside food festival, we queued for the famous crabburgers that always sell out by noon.

Crabb delivered the keynote speech at the conference.

Every summer the Crabbs gathered at the lighthouse to remember their childhood adventures.