A poorly thought-out plan blew up in one's face at the worst possible moment.

The blewarts gathered at dawn to repair the windmills.

The botanist carefully examined the blewart growing at the edge of the marsh.

She carefully cooked the blewit she had foraged, savoring its earthy, slightly sweet flavor.

She sautéed the blewits with garlic and thyme until they were tender.

The Blewetts gathered on the front porch to watch the storm roll in.

Blewett cataloged the old family photographs before donating them to the local historical society.

As a Blewish woman, she often finds herself navigating both communities with pride and complexity.

Thou blewest out the candle ere I could finish the tale.