text:
Medievalists.net
Where the Middle Ages Begin
Qur'an manuscript discovered in England could be over 1400 years old
by Medievalists.net
Experts at the University of Birmingham believe they have discovered a manuscript of the Qur'an that is at least 1370 years old, making it perhaps the oldest known copy of the Islamic Holy Book.
Radiocarbon analysis has dated the parchment on which the text is written to the period between AD 568 and 645 with 95.4% accuracy. The test was carried out in a laboratory at the University of Oxford. The result places the leaves close to the time of the Prophet Muhammad, who is generally thought to have lived between AD 570 and 632.
Researchers conclude that the Qur'an manuscript is among the earliest written textual evidence of the Islamic holy book known to survive. This gives the Qur'an manuscript in Birmingham global significance to Muslim heritage and the study of Islam.
Susan Worrall, Director of Special Collections (Cadbury Research Library), at the University of Birmingham, said, "The radiocarbon dating has delivered an exciting result, which contributes significantly to our understanding of the earliest written copies of the Qur'an. We are thrilled that such an important historical document is here in Birmingham, the most culturally diverse city in the UK."
The Qur'an manuscript is part of the University's Mingana Collection of Middle Eastern manuscripts, held in the Cadbury Research Library. Funded by Quaker philanthropist Edward Cadbury, the collection was acquired to raise the status of Birmingham as an intellectual centre for religious studies and attract prominent theological scholars.
Consisting of two parchment leaves, the Qur'an manuscript contains parts of Suras (chapters) 18 to 20, written with ink in an early form of Arabic script known as Hijazi. For many years, the manuscript had been misbound with leaves of a similar Qur'an manuscript, which is datable to the late seventh century.
Susan Worrall added, "By separating the two leaves and analysing the parchment, we have brought to light an amazing find within the Mingana Collection."
Dr Alba Fedeli, who studied the leaves as part of her PhD research, commented, "The two leaves, which were radiocarbon dated to the early part of the seventh century, come from the same codex as a manuscript kept in the Bibliothèque Nationale de France in Paris."
Explaining the context and significance of the discovery, Professor David Thomas, Professor of Christianity and Islam and Nadir Dinshaw Professor of Interreligious Relations at the University of Birmingham, said, "The radiocarbon dating of the Birmingham Qur'an folios has yielded a startling result and reveals one of the most surprising secrets of the University's collections. They could well take us back to within a few years of the actual founding of Islam.
"According to Muslim tradition, the Prophet Muhammad received the revelations that form the Qur'an, the scripture of Islam, between the years AD 610 and 632, the year of his death. At this time, the divine message was not compiled into the book form in which it appears today. Instead, the revelations were preserved in "the memories of men". Parts of it had also been written down on parchment, stone, palm leaves and the shoulder blades of camels. Caliph Abu Bakr, the first leader of the Muslim community after Muhammad, ordered the collection of all Qur'anic material in the form of a book. The final, authoritative written form was completed and fixed under the direction of the third leader, Caliph Uthman, in about AD 650.
"Muslims believe that the Qur'an they read today is the same text that was standardised under Uthman and regard it as the exact record of the revelations that were delivered to Muhammad.
"The tests carried out on the parchment of the Birmingham folios yield the strong probability that the animal from which it was taken was alive during the lifetime of the Prophet Muhammad or shortly afterwards. This means that the parts of the Qur'an that are written on this parchment can, with a degree of confidence, be dated to less than two decades after Muhammad's death. These portions must have been in a form that is very close to the form of the Qur'an read today, supporting the view that the text has undergone little or no alteration and that it can be dated to a point very close to the time it was believed to be revealed."
Dr Muhammad Isa Waley, Lead Curator for Persian and Turkish Manuscripts at the British Library, added, "This is indeed an exciting discovery. We know now that these two folios, in a beautiful and surprisingly legible Hijazi hand, almost certainly date from the time of the first three Caliphs. According to the classic accounts, it was under the third Caliph, Uthman ibn Affan, that the Qur'anic text was compiled and edited in the order of Suras familiar today, chiefly on the basis of the text as compiled by Zayd ibn Thabit under the first Caliph, Abu Bakr. Copies of the definitive edition were then distributed to the main cities under Muslim rule.
"The Muslim community was not wealthy enough to stockpile animal skins for decades, and to produce a complete Mushaf, or copy, of the Holy Qur'an required a great many of them. The carbon dating evidence, then, indicates that Birmingham's Cadbury Research Library is home to some precious survivors that – in view of the Suras included – would once have been at the centre of a Mushaf from that period. And it seems to leave open the possibility that the Uthmanic redaction took place earlier than had been thought – or even, conceivably, that these folios predate that process. In any case, this – along with the sheer beauty of the content and the surprisingly clear Hijazi script – is news to rejoice Muslim hearts."
The Qur'an manuscript will be on public display at the Barber Institute of Fine Arts, University of Birmingham, from Friday 2 October until Sunday 25 October.
See also Early copy of the Qur'an discovered
Sign up to get a Weekly Email from Medievalists.net
Smartphone and Tablet users click here to sign up for
our weekly email
TagsIslam in the Middle Ages • Medieval Manuscripts and Palaeography
Trending on Medievalists
What did medieval peasants eat?
Ten Medieval Kingdoms and States that No Longer Exist
Did people drink water in the Middle Ages?
Why We Need to Think About the Global Middle Ages
Top 10 Most Brutal Medieval Deaths
Read about the rise and fall of the Assassins in the latest issue of Medieval Warfare. Click here to order the magazine.
We've created a Patreon for Medievalists.net as we want to transition to a more community-funded model.
We aim to be the leading content provider about all things medieval. Our website, podcast and Youtube page offers news and resources about the Middle Ages. We hope that are our audience wants to support us so that we can further develop our podcast, hire more writers, build more content, and remove the advertising on our platforms. This will also allow our fans to get more involved in what content we do produce.
Copyright © 2019 Medievalists.net


text:
By Frank on Saturday, March 31, 2018
We left Lake Bled about midday on Friday amid a heavy rain shower. I wouldn't call it a storm exactly. There was no wind or menace really – just a lot of rain. Kind of like that heavy but background rain you get in Connemara. The roads in this part of the world are excellent and so we made great progress. Lena was surprised how quickly we breached the border into Italy. Again there was no great fanfare, no customs officers but we did get a 'Benvenuti in Italia'. With all the current talk of isolationism in the world, it would be worth bringing some Brexiteers and their ilk through these European borders and then showing them archive footage of how things used to be. Collectivisation of countries has its drawbacks but lack of wars, free movement of people, services and goods ain't too bad either.
This part of Italy is very wealthy and its general infrastructure bears this out. Everything east and north of Venice is also more Germanic in character than Italian. Again, when you note these points, the idea of nations seems more and more ridiculous. A figure that you see a lot while visiting any of the towns of Italy, north or south, is Garibaldi, the leading figure in the unification of Italy. Before Garibaldi, Italy was a melting pot of city states. Manzoni, the author, made it his life's work to do the same with the languages of Italy. Before his drive to standardise the language around the Florentine dialect, there were around 1,500 dialects in use along the peninsula and in the adjoining islands. And in many cases these dialects were entirely incompatible with the ones in use in the surrounding villages.
We arrived into Padua in the late afternoon as has been the norm on our trip. Padua is a beautiful Medieval town but as with many European towns and cities, in order to find the beauty of a place you must peel back its less beautiful suburbs. We were staying in the Hotel Giovanni located in one of these peripheral zones and while it got great reviews, it didn't look so promising on arrival. To further increase my sense of unease about the place, I forget to put the car into park and we rammed headfirst into the back wall of the hotel.
We left the bags in the room and drove to the edge of the mainly pedestrianised historical centre. Padua, which is famous for its Giotto frescoes, is really quite magnificent and there is much less of a touristy feel about the place than is the case with a lot of its neighbours. We stopped off for a tea at the Cafe Pedrocchi, which is situated inside what looks to be a replica of the Ara Pacis in Rome; at least, they've gone for a fairly similar Augustan decorative style – all Carraran white marble, bucrania and cornucopia. We then continued our wander and bought local salami and pecorino cheese in the markets beneath the fabulous Palazzo della Ragione. We ended up seated on some steps overlooking a lively Piazza dei Signori eating pizza slices and arancini.
And then it all started to get a bit strange. We made our way back to the hotel, tired after the day's travels and ready for bed. The hotel was quiet as during the day but once the lights were on and the curtains drawn it looked fairly comfortable. I read for a bit and then turned the lights off. Lena was already asleep as I drifted off. I woke up I'd say no more than 30 minutes later to… how to put this, energetic sounds coming from somewhere in the building. This went on for an hour or so and when Lena woke and I asked her if she could hear anything, she confirmed that the source of the sounds wasn't my head. Anyway, the night continued in this way with the odd scream thrown in for good measure. The next morning I half expected to come out to a scene of a cult massacre but instead everything seemed fine over breakfast and all the staff were very pleasant. I checked my phone in the breakfast room and saw that I had received a message during the nigth from the hotel. It contained a single dot.
We had thought about staying one more night at Hotel Giovanni and using it as a base to visit Verona, which is just up the road, but with all things considered, we decided against it.
Mint tea at the Cafe Pedrocchi, Padua
Palazzo della Ragione, Padua
Food stalls beneath the Palazzo della Ragione, Padua
For the cheese lover in your life - food shopping in Padua
Padua Cathedral
Lenny and Frank loiter outside the Cathedral of Padua
Piazza dei Signori, Padua
Lenny overlooking the Piazza dei Signori, Padua
The dog blog
I like the maps. Makes the narrative much more interesting. Strange happenings in the hotel! Maybe was it coming from outside and might have been some wild life or a snorer?

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


text:
Back in the City
Annemarie Morris melted into the new buttery-soft red leather couch and sipped her coffee. Then, as she examined the rest of the recently installed furnishings in her spacious sun-drenched living room, she smiled and sighed, thinking, A long time—25 years. Good to be back.
She noticed a smudge on one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and started to stand. Then she decided that it could wait until the cleaning woman came later in the week. She ran her fingers over the smooth, pliant leather. Closing her eyes, Annemarie smiled with satisfaction as she thought about all of the things she would do now that she was back in New York. When her cell phone rang she checked the name on the display and said, "Hi, Gina. All settled in. I can't believe I'm finally back." She and her friend talked for a while. After Annemarie said good-bye and clicked off the phone she walked to the kitchen and was about to open the refrigerator when she remembered that it was empty. I'll go shopping tomorrow or maybe I'll order online and have them deliver or maybe I'll never eat in again. After all, this is New York.
She looked at her watch. It was 3 p.m. Too early for dinner, but that was fine since she did not feel like getting dressed up and dining in a restaurant, so she threw her full-length mink over her sweater and jeans and took the elevator to the lobby. She walked out to the street and down a block to a coffee shop that she remembered from years before.
After a quick bite she decided to walk to the park. Even the air smells right. Not like that antiseptic desert air ... Buena Vista. Ugh.
She had lived in Arizona for 25 years. At first, it had been wonderful, as had been her marriage. However, after a few months on the isolated ranch, Annemarie decided that her life had become as arid, monotonous, and suffocating as the surrounding desert. When Mark made it clear that he would never leave, Annemarie decided she had to run to save her life, but that was not really an option. For one thing, she knew that if she decided to leave Mark he would fight her tooth and nail for full custody of Roger, and he would probably win. Besides, how would she survive? A clause in their prenuptial agreement would leave her with only pocket change if she were to terminate the marriage or even separate from Mark. In addition, she had nothing and no one to return to in New York or anywhere else. She certainly had not been interested in going back to the degrading knock-around, just-barely-hanging-in-there lifestyle that she had endured before she met Mark: an endless string of heartbreaking love affairs and short-lived hook-ups and one dreadful, dead-end job after another. She always ended up reaching the final stage of her latest romantic relationship and losing her job at around the same time. Then she would be too depressed to look for a new position or hunt for a new man. She would stay in her apartment until she reached the point at which she was just a few dollars ahead of living on the street. Then she would force herself out of bed, work magic with cosmetics as she squinted into her bathroom mirror, put on a slinky, short skirt, and plant herself at the bar of a high-end cocktail lounge. Sooner or later, a man would sit on the next stool and buy her a drink. Depending on how desperate she was and based on what she perceived to be the likelihood of the man being interested in a long-term relationship, at some point that night or the next or the next, she would ask if he would lend her some cash because she was "just a little short on my rent this month." Several were very handsome, decent men; with just a few, she hoped the relationship would last, but none of them ever did. Of course, she turned down the sleazy-looking ones and the scary ones, but most of them were actually very nice. They got what they wanted and she got what she needed, for a while, at least. Not quite a party girl; not the same thing as a hooker—after all, I never actually walked the street.
Annemarie's longest relationship was with an accountant, Frank Berger, who said that he was in love with her. Although she did not love him she was pleased with their relationship; he was affectionate, steady, generous, and charming. She felt secure, thinking that, in time, she might be able to love him. For that reason, despite the fact that she was falling behind in her rent again and the only food in her apartment was a box of spaghetti—not even a jar of tomato sauce to go along with it—she promised herself that she would not ask him for money. Then she torpedoed it all. One evening when Frank would not be available to see her because he had a late-night business meeting, she decided she had to get out of her apartment, so she took the subway to Swinging Jimmy's Corner, a mid-town establishment. She had nothing in mind, other than enjoying a cocktail or two, but three martinis later she was blissfully buzzed, but then she realized she had only a couple of dollars in her purse, not enough to pay her bar tab. She decided she had to meet someone nice who would be willing to pay for her drinks, so she smiled at a man wearing a black suit and nice shirt and tie. He returned her smile and then he sat on the next stool and bought her a martini, which led to another and another. By the time they left, a little past midnight, she was so impaired that the man had to hold onto her arm as they walked. Each time she told him that she wanted to go home alone, he just held her tighter. He pushed her into a cab and got in next to her. Although she was only semi-conscious, she saw that he was rifling through her pocketbook. She chuckled because she had only a couple of dollars and some change and no credit card. The next thing she knew, he was shaking her awake and helping her out of the cab in front of her building. How did he know where she lived? He asked her, "Which apartment?" She vaguely remembered mumbling, "Three B ... that's me."
Something seemed odd. Frank was there, outside her apartment door. Was that good or was that bad? Annemarie was happy to see him, but he looked sad, beaten, stricken. Why was that? He did not smile back at her. With downcast eyes, he shook his head and walked toward the stairs. After the man in the black suit had pushed Annemarie into the apartment, she asked him why Frank had left. He didn't say anything as he helped her out of her dress, led her to the bed, eased her down, and pulled off her shoes. She lay there, her head pounding. The man asked whether she needed to use the bathroom. She did. He walked her to the toilet and stood next to her as she urinated. She smiled up at him in gratitude. When he led her back to bed she felt chilled, so she pulled the covers over her. Before she dozed off she realized that Frank had looked upset and walked away because he had seen her with the man. She would call him in the morning to explain that the man was … what? She needed to sleep. In the morning she would think about what to say to Frank.
She felt chilled again. The covers were no longer there. The man was. He was next to her on the bed, pulling off her bra and panties. He was kissing her and fondling her breasts and then he put his hand between her legs. She was tired and her head was spinning. She did not want this man touching her. She pushed him, but he was strong. She felt weak and confused and did not remember where she was. He climbed on and held her down and plunged into her. She tried to push him off, but she had no strength. She cried out, but her voice sounded like that of a small child. Then she knew where and when she was: she was not in her apartment and the man was not on her; no, she was engulfed in a familiar fever dream from her childhood in which she was crammed into an overheated train compartment. She felt crushed and weighed down by the heavy, stale air all around her. She was choking. The train was going too fast, rocking from side to side; she tried to stand up to tell the conductor to do something, but she could not move because of the dense air, and she had no strength and was unable to speak. She felt uncomfortably hot and confused. She wanted to get off the train, but she did not know how. Then she understood that she was not dreaming. She wanted the man off her, but he held her down with a vice-like grip and ground into her. It lasted for a seemingly endless time, during which she wanted to scream, call for help, ask him to stop, but she was voiceless. At some point, as she moaned, feeling suffocated by his sweaty body on top of her, she passed out. When she regained consciousness, he was still on her, still thrusting into her. It went on and on. He was holding down her arms and she could barely breathe. She knew what was happening: it was the overheated train again. No. It was not. Then she fell into unconsciousness again.
She awakened in the dark. The man was next to her, snoring. As she slowly sat up she felt dizzy, so she waited for a few seconds before she unsteadily put her feet on the floor. Then she felt a hand, two hands pulling her down. He climbed on her and forced himself into her again. She tried to call out; she managed to ask him to stop. He put a hand over her mouth and continued thrusting into her. Again, it lasted for an agonizingly long period of time. Finally, it was over. She lay very still. Even though she attempted to remain awake so that she could creep out of bed, she fell into oblivion again.
Daylight peeked through the spaces between her window shades. She turned her head. He was still there, next to her in bed. She moved slowly toward the edge of the bed. He put an arm over her again. She tried to break free, but he held tight. This time, she was sober enough to firmly tell him to stop. He held her wrists, mounted her, and pushed into her again. She tried to break loose, but he was too strong. When she called out, he covered her mouth with a hand. She got one hand free and tried to push him off, but she was powerless. She raked her fingernails across his back. He slapped her face and told her to "be good and don't try to stop me." She did not pass out this time. She looked at the clock on her nightstand. It read 6:05. At 6:25, he groaned and shuddered. Then he rolled off her and said, "Thanks. That was nice."
Hours later, the man was gone. After washing and rinsing and scrubbing and rinsing again in the shower and after she had thrown up, not because of the liquor she had consumed, but because she was sickened by what the man had done to her, she forced herself to drink a cup of reheated black coffee from the day before. She decided not to call the police. Instead, she called Frank at work. He did not return her "hello." She explained that she had been out with her friend Gina and they both had too many martinis and the man who had accompanied her home was Gina's brother. "He paid for a cab, and then, after he dropped off Gina, he took me home because he saw I was in bad shape."
When Frank remained silent, Annemarie began to cry. Then, in a faraway, broken voice, Frank said, "All night, at that stupid meeting, all I could think of was seeing you. All I wanted was to cuddle up next to you in bed. I waited by your door for two hours. I didn't mind, although I was becoming worried that something had happened to you."
"Nothing happened, other than the fact that we drank too much. That guy, he drove me home. He helped me into my apartment, and then he left."
"I really liked you. I loved you, Annemarie."
"And I ... I care about you, Frank. What's the matter?"
"I can't get it out of my head."
"That guy with his hands all over you, and you leaning on him and smiling at me as he walked you past me to your door. And then he led you into the apartment and closed the door."
"I told you—I was drunk. He was a gentleman. He waited outside the bathroom as I threw up and washed myself. Then I fell into bed and he left."
"Why? Why didn't you tell him to go home when you saw me?"
"I was drunk. After I went to the bathroom I felt better. He made coffee for me and then I went to bed. I'm sorry. I just ... he didn't stay long. I looked at the clock when I got into bed. He left after a few minutes. I asked him where you were. He said you left. I fell—"
"I waited in the crappy lobby of your building. I wanted to believe he was just a friend. I kept hoping he would come down right away and leave. After two hours, at almost three a.m., I left."
"He ... I. ... It's not what you think."
"I loved you. Now it's too late."
Now, sitting back on her sumptuous sofa in her splendid, airy new apartment, Annemarie wondered why she had thought of that horrid incident from so many years before. After that phone call she had fallen into the deepest depression of her life, a cold, dark crevice from which there seemed to be no way out. More than the actual violation, she had cried hot, bitter tears over the end of her relationship with Frank. Then, as gloomy, lonely hours turned into mournful days and then weeks, she knew she had reached the end of the line. She did not look for a job. She could not put on make-up or dress nicely. She showered and washed her hair only when she felt too dirty and uncomfortable to put it off another day. When she was hungry she stole packages of potato chips or candy from convenience stores or bodegas or she ate in busy cafes and luncheonettes far from her apartment and, after using the bathroom, walked out without paying. Then she began to shoplift; first it was small items such as lipstick and nail clippers and chewing gum. Then she began taking more expensive things—high-end clothing and good costume jewelry—most of which she sold on the street to come up with cash to pay her rent. Then there was that day in that bookstore. As she looked at all of those beautiful books with their stunning, vibrant covers, she felt an electric shock of joy, thinking, If people can create such incredibly lovely images with words and pictures, then some version of life, somewhere, sometime, can still be wonderful and beautiful.
She knew that those books would change her life, so she chose two of the loveliest and, when the store owner was not looking, slipped them into her oversized bag. But he had been looking. When he stopped her at the door, she was overwhelmed by icy, black dread. Then the man did the most wonderful thing: he told her to keep one of the books. She gave him one and kept one, and then she moved quickly down the sidewalk, afraid he would change his mind and call the police.
When she reached her apartment that day Annemarie felt transformed. She was about a month away from eviction, but for the first time in weeks she had hope. That man, Howard Roark Fox—she had seen his name on the West Side Booksellers bookmarks that were on the counter—had brought her up from the depths of despair, from the cold darkness of her icy crevice of existence. He looked like a nice man: handsome in a lazy, peculiar way, and gentle and kind. She knew there was a wonderful, serene, spiritual connection between them. He was a solid, if somewhat unusual man with whom she would be able to develop a joyful, unbreakable bond of sincere and otherworldly friendship, mutual respect, and ... love? She did not know how it would turn out, but she understood that whoever or whatever force or forces directed lives and fates and the joys and sorrows of existence had compelled her to walk into that store on that day and pick up those books during moments in time when that man, Howard, was looking. Because this had been a good thing she knew that he had to be kind and loving and understanding. This was a man who would be her anchor, a warm soul whose presence would serve as her real home, the home about which she incessantly dreamed and which she had never known.
Now, looking through one of the dazzling windows of her new apartment, she shook her head in sardonic amusement, remembering how much time she had put into showering, dressing, fixing her hair, and applying make-up that night so many years ago. She thought about how awkward Howard had been during their three times together. The first was that night in her old, ratty apartment when, filled with an absolute belief in the inevitability of their otherworldly spiritually-ordained connection, she had put on her most sultry look and seduced him. He had been inept and distant, but exceedingly aroused and, once they started, he thrust into her with an abundance of indefatigable animal sexuality. He had not been a good lover, but, with time, she could have taught him how to be tender and caring and responsive.
The second and third times, when they shared food and conversation in his store, Howard had been aloof and indifferent. In fact, it was clear—it was devastating for Annemarie to realize—that he did not want to have anything to do with her. She remembered that, as she stumbled out of the store that last time, first sobbing, then crying hysterically, she felt dizzy and then everything was hazy and then completely dark, as if she were engulfed in the thick black, choking smoke of a fire or had plunged into a narrow, unlit tunnel. She stopped walking and remained rooted in place on the sidewalk for a minute or so. Then she blindly felt her way to a storefront and leaned against it, until a man—she did not know who he was or what he looked like because she could not see clearly—asked her whether she needed help. She cried and shook and did not answer. After a while, she calmed down enough to stop crying and reach into her shoulder bag for a tissue, but could not find any. The man held out a handkerchief to her. She took it and then she squinted, attempting to focus on the man. For a second, she thought it was the one who had attacked her. She backed away. Then, through her somewhat clearer field of vision, she saw that this man was taller, older, and more heavily built. In a gentle voice, he asked whether she wanted to sit down somewhere. She shook her head, and then, looking at him, she explained that something awful of a very personal nature had happened to her in the bookstore and that she felt dizzy and unable to see clearly. When he asked whether she wanted to go to a hospital, she said no. He told her that he had heard of cases like hers, where a severe traumatic event causes dizziness or temporary blindness or some other physical reaction, and then he assured her that she would be fine once she had calmed down.
"If you want, I can stay with you for a couple of minutes. I have time before my meeting, and you should not be alone."
She was so upset and disheartened and confused that, throwing caution to the winds, she asked him to walk her home, saying it was only a couple of blocks away. He placed a hand under her arm. Neither one spoke until they reached the front of her building. She thanked him and then, as she reached for the door handle, she stumbled and fell, bumping her forehead on the glass and landing hard on the palms of her hands. He helped her up and said that he would walk her to her apartment, adding that he had a daughter around her age. He held her gently and said, "You need to rest." From his voice and the hazy image she had of him, she imagined he was in his fifties. She allowed him to walk her up the stairs, feeling confident that since it was the middle of the day, other tenants would be around. When they reached her floor she told him that she was fine. At the door to her apartment she thanked him and repeated that she would be okay, but he remained there, next to her. Feeling apprehensive, with great effort, she fished around in her pocketbook until she found her key; she tried to insert it in the keyhole, but missed over and over again, and then she dropped it. He picked it up, unlocked the door, and put the key into her hand. She thanked him again, opened the door, and stepped into her apartment, immediately tripping over the bag of dirty laundry that she had left there before she had gone out earlier that day. She hit the floor hard, landing on her elbows. When she felt the man's arms on her shoulders, she lashed out and frantically struggled to free herself, but he held tight and wrangled her off the floor. Then, although she tried to make her body stiff, he led her to the sofa and helped her to sit. He walked away. She felt cold and lightheaded and fragile. She tensed as, a minute later, he returned. She saw his hands reaching for her. Then she felt cold-wet on her face, and realized that the man was dabbing her bruised forehead with a wash cloth. He gently pushed her back on the sofa and told her to hold the cloth firmly to her head; then he washed and dried her scraped elbows and applied antiseptic to the abrasions. She scrutinized the man; he was, as she had thought, in his mid-fifties, handsome, solidly built, balding, wearing an expensive blue suit, nice shirt, and stylish tie. He soothingly asked, "Are you all right?" She said she was. Then she looked around. The apartment door was open. When he saw her looking at it he said, "I didn't think I should be in here alone with you with the door closed. If you're all right, I'll leave. I have to meet a client." She said she was fine, but she wanted him to stay. He was safe, like an uncle or an older friend of the family.
He knocked on her door later that day. Hoping that he would return, Annemarie had cleaned the apartment, refreshed her makeup, and waited. He said his name was Mark Morris, 58, widowed, an attorney. He lived on the Upper East Side. "If you're feeling okay, I would like to take you out to dinner. I'm not expecting anything. I'm surely twice your age, but you seem to need a friend, and I'm a good listener."
They married a month later. Only Annemarie's friend Gina and Mark's son and daughter, who were around her age, attended the wedding ceremony at City Hall. They went to Paris for their honeymoon. It was her first trip anywhere, not counting her years of wandering before she moved to New York.
Annemarie was deliriously happy. For the first time in her life she was totally in love with a good man who loved her in return and who provided the home she had never had. They lived in an exquisite nine-room apartment in a luxury building on Central Park West and she had more money in her own checking account than she knew how to spend. She almost immediately became pregnant and gave birth to a boy, who they named Roger. She and Mark agreed that one was enough. After interviewing a dozen applicants, they hired a full-time nanny.
Even though Annemarie loved her baby and was free to go out whenever she pleased, after a while, she felt weighed down by a nagging melancholy. Her shopping trips and museum visits did not satisfy her. When Mark was at work the huge apartment felt less like a home than a strange, cold habitat. She was bored and lonely and nervous for hours each day. However, when Mark was home he doted on her, seeming to believe that his role in life was to make her happy. He said he felt younger and more vigorous now than he had when he was 20 and that, although he now had a reason to live another 25 years, he would consider himself lucky to live another ten. He told Annemarie not to worry about what would happen to her when he died because she and his children would each inherit a bundle. He also said that he wanted to retire soon so that he would be able to spend more time with her and Roger and in order to give life to a long-deferred dream—to buy a horse ranch in Arizona, a place where he would be able to stretch his legs and indulge in two great passions: riding and hunting.
Although Annemarie felt sick at the thought of leaving the city, she knew she would follow Mark anywhere, even to a remote ranch in the hot, dry southwest. After all, she thought, if we love each other, life anywhere at any time will be wonderful as long as we're together. He is my home. He is my time and place, not the four walls that enclose me or the furnishings in it.
A year later, Mark retired, sold the apartment, and settled his affairs in the city. Although Annemarie said that she was unhappy about leaving New York, she did not complain when Mark announced that they would be moving to a newly-refurbished ranch in an isolated area at the edge of the desert in Arizona. Once they were there, Annemarie was pleasantly surprised to find that, even though she still missed the city, she liked the wide open spaces and the dry fresh air and perpetual sunshine. She was happily, completely in love with Mark. Although he was now 60, he had the needs and stamina and passion of a man 30 years younger. Some days, they made love three or four times.
During the first few months on the ranch, when Annemarie made it clear that she did not like horseback riding or hunting, she assured Mark that he should feel free to engage in those long-denied pursuits. He rode every day. With her blessing, he occasionally made solitary all-day and then overnight forays into the surrounding hills. Then he made friends with four men around his age who regularly went on three- and four-day journeys by horseback into the desert. Since they camped far from civilization, Mark was unable to call Annemarie when he was on those rugged adventures, so she was completely on her own except for the new nanny, the housekeeper, and the ranch foreman. Little by little, she became used to her days of solitude, which she filled by caring for Roger, watching television, experimenting with new recipes, and reading. Each afternoon, as she scanned the desolate horizon, looking for Mark, hoping this would be the day he would return from his latest expedition, she longed more and more for New York.
By the end of their first year in Arizona, Annemarie had decided that she disliked living on the ranch and she began to feel oppressed by the surrounding barren, arid landscape. She now resented the fact that Mark had made the move in the face of what she remembered as her strenuous objections.
One day, she realized that when Mark was away and she thought of him, it was only with warm affection and not fiery passion.
A year later, she knew in her heart that this was not what she wanted and that if they remained on the ranch for much longer she would go insane. Each time she told Mark that she wanted to move back east he smiled and said that she had to take a bit more time to get used to their home. Then he would pat her shoulder.
One day, bitter and angry, she shouted, "This dried-out shithole is not my home!"
He assured her that it was, saying, "You know I've cut all of my ties to New York. This is where I want to live and where I want to die."
"What about my ties? I agreed to move here because of you—"
"And that was the right thing to do."
"I sacrificed because I love you. I thought, I hoped I could be happy here, anywhere with you, but I'm not. I'm miserable."
"You'll get used to it. We're not moving. Give it time."
"I've given it two years. I hate it! If I stay here much longer, I'll go crazy or I'll move away without you or ... or ... I don't know what."
He took her hands, kissed them, marveled at them. He had often told Annemarie that her smooth, silky, tapered fingers and the satiny skin on the palms of her hands were her nicest features. Then he said, "You won't move out. You love me and I love you and you're mine forever."
"No!" she said, pulling her hands from him. "I'm mine. Of course, I love you, but this place makes me so unhappy, it's killing my feelings for you and it's slowly sucking the life out me and our marriage."
"An important part of a marriage involves making compromises."
"Oh? And what compromises do you make?"
"I don't have to make any right now. I accepted you when we met. I've never held it against you for the kind of life you lived."
She caught her breath. Then she thought, Thank God I never told him everything I did, everything I was forced to do, everything that happened to me. So what that I slept with lots of men and asked some of them for money. Then she said, "I see, and I suppose you've always acted in the most moral way."
"As far as that is concerned, yes. I've told you. I was faithful to Rose for the 30 years we were married. I was celibate for years after she died. Before we got married … I've told you: I was ... untested."
"You mean you were a virgin. Big deal!"
"You sure weren't. As I said, I accepted it. "
"Very nice! Even though I did things I wish I had never done, they do not define me. I'm a good person. So what that I went to bed with lots of men!"
"As I said, I've never held that against you."
"You're a smug ... I don't know."
"We're married, Annemarie. We're going to stay here. After I'm dead, if you want to move back east, you'll have the money to do it."
"I don't think I can wait that long."
"You don't know how long it will be, and I don't either." Then, with his face darkening, Mark continued: "If you run out on me, you won't get a dime and you'll never see Roger again. Remember that. I have the money for lawyers, high-priced ones. You don't."
She was speechless. They ended the argument that day, but they returned to it again and again. At one point, Mark asked Annemarie what would happen to Roger if she were to run away with him, saying, "He loves it here and he loves his horse." She told him that children adapt to changes very easily and that he would love New York and would have a better education there. "And," she said, "he'd be a better off if I wasn't so damned unhappy."
"Give it another year, Annemarie."
"And then what? Another year? And another year? Another year of you going off to play cowboy while I dry out and turn into dust here?"
"You're my wife. This is the home I've dreamed about for years. I bought it with my hard-earned money. I'm staying, Roger is staying, and you're staying here. You should join a group, maybe a prayer group."
She looked at him as if he had just spit at her.
Then came the afternoon that Annemarie was sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair, reading, when Mark returned from an especially long outing. He happily waved his sweat-stained Stetson as he walked his horse to the stable. Later, holding his hat in one hand as he slowly clumped up the porch steps, his leather jacket, jeans, and boots filthy and his three-day stubble gray and rough, Annemarie shuddered. She could not help but stare in disgust and resentment at the fact that his waistline was two sizes bigger than when she had met him and his now completely bald head was shiny with sweat. Annemarie thought, It's Father as he looked when he returned from a day in the fields. How did that happen? She stiffened when Mark embraced her and she turned her face when he tried to kiss her. "Oh. I guess I smell kind of rank," he said with a smile. "I'll go in and clean up right now."
A few minutes later he called her but she pretended not to hear. How things change and putrefy, she thought, and then she laughed bitterly. She tried to remember how many times, over the years, she had kept silent naked vigil outside of the bathroom while he showered, waiting for the right moment to throw open the door and jump on him while he was warm and wet. She attempted to remember, to feel her heart-thrumming sense of anticipation and excitement as she luxuriated in a warm, bubbly bath, hoping he would walk in when she least expected it and slide in and embrace her. She could almost feel his hot, slippery-soapy muscular arms and chest against her. Almost, but not really. Now, even if he had washed off the rancid odor of the horse and the trail and himself, even if he had shaved off that old man's stubble and dried his hairless scalp, she could not. No. She would not. Not now. Maybe later, but not now. No. Not now.
Later that night, in bed, when he lifted her nightgown off her and kissed and touched her, even though she kept her eyes closed and tried to remember how he had looked, how he had felt at the beginning, she pictured, she smelled Father. Again, she remembered her childhood fever dream of the oppressively crowded, overheated railroad car as she felt his heavy weight on her chest, as she forced herself not to resist, as she prayed for it to be over quickly.
Three years later, as Annemarie became increasingly depressed during the times she was left alone for days in their cavernous, frigidly air conditioned ranch house while Mark and his friends camped in the desert and did whatever they did and when she finally gave up trying to feel for him what had died, she wished she could go back to an earlier time and place. She closed her eyes and concentrated, willing her mind or spirit or whatever to transport her back to New York, but not to the life in which she was poor and hungry, slithering from bar to bar, from man to man, always on the knife edge of desperation. She wanted the where and when of her city life, but with a better financial situation than she had back then. Her soul ached because she had to get away from the dusty loneliness of her sun-baked gulag and once again walk along a gritty, bustling city sidewalk on a brisk fall day with a refreshing wind, stare in wonder at the tree in Rockefeller Center during the Christmas season, wander through the galleries of the Metropolitan Museum of Art on a rainy spring afternoon, and stroll along the leafy, fragrant paths of Central Park in the summer. She laughed bitterly and shook her head as, for the hundredth time, she came to terms with the fact that she was living a version of her past life, except that in this rendition of it, rather than being involved in serial short-lived affairs with men who gave her money for rent, she reluctantly made her body available to one very wealthy man who reminded her of Father.
She was alone in the house, so she screeched, "Not my home!"
Her stomach turned and her face burned and she was wracked with regret; after all, she had agreed to this life. Still, she wanted to leave and start searching, once again, for her real home, but she would not do that. If she were to run, Mark would give her nothing and he would fight for full custody of Roger. Besides, even though she hated the ranch, she knew that Mark loved her and had treated her well. Despite everything, the thought of hurting him filled Annemarie with hot shame and cold remorse, and she knew she would never leave.
One day two years later, only hours after Mark had happily trotted off on his favorite horse, Zephyr, for what he said would be a two- or three-day jaunt in the surrounding hills with his saddle buddies, Annemarie showered, dressed, packed an overnight bag, and drove the two hours to Phoenix. She checked into the Clarendon and, after freshening up in her room she went to the restaurant for a bite to eat and a glass of champagne. Then she ambled through the luxury boutiques in the streets around the hotel. An hour later, she returned to her room, put away her costly purchases, refreshed her make-up, and took the elevator down to the lounge. It was filled with young executive types. As she took a seat at the bar she knew she was attracting a lot of admiring looks, but she had not come here for that. When a well-dressed man with thick swept-back gray hair sat next to her, she ignored him, and when he asked whether he could buy her a drink she politely said no. After she had done the same with three other men she was left in peace. She smiled as she imagined that those four men had marked the back of her bar stool with chalk or spread the word in some other way: "Don't bother; she's a cold-hearted tease."
Two days later, after a leisurely late lunch, feeling refreshed and recharged, Annemarie drove back to the ranch, happily singing along with the cowboy music playing on her radio. As she brought her car to a stop in the long circular driveway out front she suddenly felt oppressed and tired and old. And trapped. After a moment of somber reflection, Annemarie forced a smile onto her face and went into the house, assuring herself that a solitary glass of wine on the porch would help her to become more settled, more able to muddle through the rest of her day.
However, when she walked into the bedroom, she froze; Mark was under the covers, smiling, a detective novel face down on the bedspread. He said, "Hi. I just got back. Roger's at a friend's house. I already showered. Come here, sweetie." The glow of the reading lamp next to the bed reflected harshly off his smooth scalp. She tried to look happy, but ended up making a face that was a cross between "Oh, no. I don't want this" and "I know what's expected of me; I'll do my job." She ducked into the bathroom and, as she sat on the bowl she tried to decide what to do now and the next time and the next. She had thought, hoped she would have a few hours before he arrived home.
She emerged from the bathroom, quickly stripped off her clothes and slipped into bed. As he kissed her, she kept her cold lips tightly closed. Then she turned her head to the side as he gently moved onto her; she tried, but she could not relax or feel warm or loving or even embrace him. She held her hands lightly on his back. He kissed her silky cheeks and delicate neck and held her tightly. Then, with difficulty because she was not warm and moist and receptive, he entered her. As he moved up and down, up and down and ground his body against hers, she felt her muscles growing tighter and stiffer, transforming what had started out as an uncomfortable experience into a painful and, little by little, a degrading one. She tried to soften and become tender and loving and passionate, and yet she did not want to do that.
In the midst of his burning, powerful need, his three-day pent-up hunger for her, Mark knew he could no longer ignore the gnawing, upsetting fact that she was cold and stiff. This had happened more and more often during the past few months. He hoped that if he held her close and tenderly kissed her and moved in just the right way he would find what they used to refer to as her "sweety spot." Then she moaned, but it was not the right kind of moan, not a "Yes!" or an "Mmmmm" moan, but one that clearly indicated distress. He suddenly felt chilled; he was an intruder. He slowed down, hoping that a gentler, lighter movement would loosen her up and warm her and enable her to enjoy their moment of intimacy. Then she asked what she had only thought on other occasions recently: "Are you almost through?" Her words, although whispered, reverberated painfully in his ears and sent a sizzling shock wave through his brain. He froze and pulled his head back to look at her, but she kept her face turned from him. He moved down to her again and held her tight and resumed his thrusting, but now at a faster rhythm and with a specific goal in mind. He pushed himself to hurry so as to quickly reach the time and place that would be defined by that special and excruciatingly exquisite sensation, because it was clear that she was not enjoying, in fact, was not sharing in this moment with him, was acting only as a reluctant receptacle. Because, as he thought of her, he pictured her face contorted by an expression of unhappiness and revulsion, he forced into his mind images of other women he had talked to or seen from afar, but had never touched. That helped. He reached his moment—it was his moment, only his moment—and even as his senses reveled and rejoiced in those few blindingly aching seconds of sizzling delight, in his very core he grieved. Then he moved off her. They both lay there for a few silent minutes.
After a while, he gently asked, "Is something wrong? Is something wrong with you? Are you ill?" When she did not answer, he said, "That's okay. We don't have to talk about it now."
The next night, when she was stiff, cold, and immobile and pushed him away, he insisted they talk about it, saying, "If you have a medical issue you should take care of it. If it's me, we have to talk about that."
She cried. He held her. She nestled against him and wanted to say, "I'm so sorry, Father. I do love you, but not in that way anymore."
They never did talk about it, but she made a point of no longer rebuffing him. He understood that she was simply allowing him to mount her and enjoy the pleasures of her body, but not touch her soul. He knew he could not rightly refer to it as making love, but he still had that need and, each time, he hoped that he could resuscitate what he thought of as her dormant love for him.
During the next few months, Mark found it frustratingly difficult to become erect, and so he stopped making the effort. Once in a while, because Annemarie still did care for him, she endeavored to picture Mark as he had looked and felt and smelled when they first fell in love; then she would surprise him by ardently kissing and touching him all over and using all of her senses and all of the warmth and all of the vigor of her alluring body to arouse him, and they would join together as they used to, although, not really. They coupled—that is, their bodies joined together and he experienced that peculiar set of exciting, exquisitely pleasing, electrifying sensations and that riotous, excruciatingly pleasurable release—but they were not together. He was alone and she was adrift in another place and time. On those occasions he endeavored to be satisfied with the pleasure of sexually possessing this beautiful woman who used to vibrate in tune with him, and not expect, not need anything more. They both knew that beyond the specifics of the sexual act, nothing had happened. Afterward, as they lay next to each other, not touching, they both wished they were somewhere else.
Little by little, during the next few years, as they drifted further apart and spent less time together, Mark transformed from a fit older man to an individual who spent a great deal of time fondly recalling the past and thinking about the end; she became cold and rock hard and bitter. He complained that he could no longer spend long periods of time in the saddle and said that he was unable to tolerate the heat, so he rode less and less often, spending many days at a time in the house, reading, snacking, and sleeping, but he refused to move, saying he wanted to live out his final years in the desert. He mournfully complained that she rarely touched him anymore, saying, "I don't even mean sex. I know those days are over, but you hardly ever touch me anymore." Then, looking at her hands, he said, "You know how much I love the feel of your fingers on my face."
Annemarie made a point of driving to shopping malls, museums, or theaters several times each week. Then she began stopping at distant cocktail lounges or hotels in the late afternoon or early evening, generally returning home well after midnight and silently slipping into bed next to Mark. He was always either asleep or turned away from her, pretending to be. She felt the weight of a heavy rock on her chest and asked herself why she was doing it. She was not looking for love, thinking, God forbid! She was not participating in anonymous liaisons to satisfy her sexual needs; in fact, at the end of each one-night stand she felt empty and grievously dissatisfied. Neither was she longing for the feel or the scent of a different man. She sadly admitted to herself that she was once again engaged in her search for a home, the one she had never had, the one she had thought she had with Mark, but which turned out to be cold and empty and joyless. She tried to hide the harsh truth from him, making sure she treated him kindly and with consideration, forcing herself to touch him lovingly on occasion and give him gentle kisses. She assuaged her guilt by saying she always returned to him. He always made sure to stop crying when he heard the house door open.
She noticed that he had begun to walk a bit unsteadily and to slur his words, so she made an appointment for him with a neurologist. Days later, when Dr. Wexler discussed the test results with them he explained that, at some point, Mark had suffered a TIA, a transient ischemic attack, a mini stroke. Some days, Mark did not leave his bed. He called his attorney to make sure his will was incontestable, and then he had a long discussion with his ranch foreman, telling the man that he now had a free hand in terms of running the place, but that he should keep Annemarie informed and watch out for her.
Annemarie hired the foreman's sister, Margarita, to help her care for Mark. A year later, with Margarita still providing primary care, Annemarie hired a nurse practitioner who specialized in geriatric patients to check on Mark three times a week. When it was clear that he was suffering from cognitive loss, perhaps the beginning stages of dementia, Annemarie hired two sisters, licensed home health aides, to take turns caring for Mark around the clock. Annemarie, feeling closer to her husband now than she had in years, stopped meeting other men. She shopped and went on day trips to the theater and local museums, and was home with Mark every night. She thought it ironic that she was there with him, but he was too confused to take comfort in her presence.
Now, 27 years after marrying Mark and 25 years after they had moved to Arizona, Annemarie, newly widowed, was back in New York, looking forward to the delicious pleasures of the city. Their son Roger, who had graduated from Harvard and had lived in Boston for a few years, now worked for a hedge fund on Wall Street. He had recently moved to Hoboken, New Jersey.
Annemarie was alone in her new apartment. She looked at her hands. They were no longer as smooth and supple as they had once been. As she slowly ran them along the yielding, warm leather of her new couch, she sighed, thinking, Too old—54—to start over, but that's ok. I'm a comfortably set widow. Very nice. I deserve this. I did not do anything wrong.
One more time, she thought about the journey she had traveled: from the Missouri farm on which she had been raised and abused, through her time hop-scotching from town to town across the Midwest, to her years living alone and bed-hopping in New York, to her long marriage to Mark and their time in Arizona, and now, back to New York.
She looked through one of the tall windows at the outlines of the buildings in the slowly darkening city.
11. Chapter 8
Books Similar to 'Gladiator'
Books Similar to 'Skyrim'
Books Similar to Nicholas Sparks'
Books Similar to 'Ender's Game'
Books Similar to 'Room'
Books Similar to 'Paper Towns'


Steinbeck invites the reader to recall several additional associations in order to piece together the tragic resolution to come. This prompts Curley's wife to ask him why he likes rabbits so much. The next day, Lennie is in the barn with a dead puppy. Proud, bitter, and cynical, he is isolated from the other men because of the color of his skin. It set the theme of friendship, intolerance of the society, lost hope and euthanasia.
Despite himself, Crooks becomes fond of Lennie, and though he claims to have seen countless men following empty dreams of buying their own land, he asks Lennie if he can go with them and hoe in the garden. He gets anxious in stressful situations, causing him to lose control. Whipper repeated this role in the 1939 film version. Curley was the most furious to find his wife dead and went to kill Lennie with the rest of the ranch guys. This showed that even though the society tended to cover up killing things as if they did it for mercy.
When he shot him, Lennie was visualizing their paradise in front of him, so he basically died facing paradise. Therefore, the dog was shot for selfish reasons. The underlying, yet stunningly obvious, theme of loneliness can be found in many characters with many examples. Lennie was a clear danger to himself and if he stayed alive and he was a bit weird. Lennie wants to hear the story of their farm again, and George retells the dream. He breaks off the fight only when he is ordered to do so by George, similarly to the way a master would issue commands to his dog. George Milton, his friend who he travels and finds work with, tells him, 'Trouble with mice is you always kill 'em….
Whenever he does wrong, he always thinks, 'George ain't gonna let me tend no rabbits now. He grabs a hold of her hair and muffles her screams. The major irony in the book Of Mice and Men is that George killed Lennie because he loved and cared for him. He is strong and bulky, which makes him great at his job. Therefore one might argue that by killing Lennie, George also sacrificed himself. We recall George's order from the beginning of the book - that if any trouble goes down, Lennie is to hide in the bushes near their original campsite. Lennie tries to stop her yelling and eventually, and accidentally, kills her by breaking her neck.
Candy is lonely after his dog is gone. Although George is morally wrong, he shot Lennie because he cared about him, and to save him from a society that misunderstood him. He pets it for a while and she tells him to stop but he won't. Symbols Symbols are objects, characters, figures, and colors used to represent abstract ideas or concepts. George misleads Slim, telling him that Lennie has probably gone south.
GradeSaver, 30 November 2008 Web. She is clearly starved for conversation and launches into a reprise of her discontented story of what might have been. George expresses the hope that maybe Lennie will just be locked up and still be treated well, but Candy tells him that Curley is sure to have Lennie lynched. What were the similarities between them? This made him feel deserted after the killing. He tries to cover it up with the hay, thinking of telling George he found it dead, but then realizes his plan will not work and throws the dead puppy in anger. Unlike most main characters in novels, who develop and grow over the course of the story, Lennie is a static character. When he is stro … king her hair, she tells him to let go, but he panics and instead of doing so holds on.
It's quite a fitting structure for the death of a would-be actress. Candy is lonely and his dog keeps him company. Confused and then terrified, he covers her with hay. Many of the bans and restrictions have been lifted and it remains required reading in many other American, Australian, Irish, British, New Zealand and Canadian high schools. The two sit together and George retells the beloved story of the dream, knowing it is something they'll never share.
Since they cannot do so, the real danger of Lennie's mental handicap comes to the fore. He was rejected by the society because he had a broken hand and this made him weak and useless to it. Candy warns that Curley will lynch Lennie if they don't let him get away. Susan Shillinglaw January 18, 2004. Like candy said 'I shouldn't of let no stranger kill my dog, I should of done it myself'.


Happy New Year!!! With that being said, how many of us are 'back into' the gym. Hah! I am one of those. Well with unconditioned muscles, comes unconditional pain. I mean I literally sneezed and almost died. My abs felt like they were about to fall out on the floor. And don't even ask me how I squat to go potty. haha. I don't. I just kind of fall in hopes not to miss the seat! I know you'll feel me.
Recovery starts with a lot of Pan'Away and a lot of protein to help build those muscles that I wish were already there. I am not a nutritionist Scientist, but I do know for muscles to grow and repair, they need PROTEIN! So I made a quick and easy protein pancake for the hubby and I this morning, and extra to keep in the fridge for a quick fix. They are delishhhhhhh…. I posted them on my Social Media account and had a few inquiries on the recipe. So here ya go! Super simple, super easy, and a quick fix.
In a blender, combine equal parts egg whites, cottage cheese and oats. (I use 2 cups of each). Add in Stevia, Cinnamon and YL Cinnamon Bark EO. 'Liquify' the ingredients. Place on heated griddle. Cook to liking, and enjoy!!!


The thought of using photography to share photos of famous people is actually as ancient as the art of photography itself. Through the 1900s and forwards most of the larger portrait studios got into the celebrity picture industry. Every photographer had his niche. As competition became more intense, each studio was inspired, within finances, to draw in celebrities and, if at all, acquire exclusive privileges to them.
Celebrity photography is actually a specialty of photojournalism and deals totally with celebrities in a range of events and settings. Newspapers and magazines usually purchase and run 4 main kinds of celebrity photographs: music photographs, celebrity portraits, paparazzi photos, and event photographs. Celebrity photographers usually focus on one such forms of photography, with paparazzi being the very least revered among these.
Celebrity portraiture is a part of celebrity photography which involves taking official photographs at an official photograph shoot. These photographs might be for a marketing campaign, promotion, newspaper or magazine spreads, or for usage as promo site shots. These photograph shoots are properly organized with a distinct objective in mind.
Music photography is yet another section of celebrity photography which deals exclusively with music artists and groups. Photographs might be presented or taken during shows. Most of the photographs finish up in newspapers, magazines or internet sites while some can be used for advertising products and fan club collectibles.
Event celebrity photography is an additional discipline which involves organized, authorized photographs. Events might include functions, film premiers, wedding ceremonies, music shows, award shows, and private functions. These photographs are often a part of entertainment periodicals and other magazines which track the activities of celebrities.
Paparazzi is the least revered of all kinds of celebrity photography. Paparazzi photography enthusiasts capture candid photographs of celebrities, often without having permission. They go to any lengths to take photographs which they wish will be worth big money, which include trespassing and using extended telephoto lenses. These motivated photographers are known to crash family functions and engage in car chases to get a great photo. Then they sell off these photographs to the largest bidder, which regularly happens to be tabloids or 'trash' magazines.


text:
Manila Organics
Manila (Hotdogs song)
Manila (2009 film)
Metro Manila (film)
Ayala Center
Help Support the Channel Below: **Subscribe to Channel: https://www.youtube.com/NoNonsenseKnowHow?sub_confirmation=1 **Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/NoNonsenseKnowHow **DONATE TO CHANNEL via Paypal: https://www.goo.gl/E8QQUm
http://foodconsumption.snis.ch/ This film is part of a series of 6 films that reveal the complexity of food consumption dynamics among the middle classes in two rapidly changing, urban centres: Metro Manila, the Philippines and Bangalore, India. Based on a two-year academic research project, the six films highlight the changing patterns, practices and policies related to food consumption in these two mega-cities. Eating in and food waste in Bangalore https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWlt_DnGqhE Eating out and food waste. Reduce, Reuse and Recycle in Bangalore https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=unHbNPTYrKc Waste management and recycling in Bangalore https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROaRcJVJdIg Distinctly Filipino Cuisine in Manila https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oi2XOdgMAUk Eating out and food waste in Metro Manila https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=riqfWU1jlR0 Organic food in Manila https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1X6cL4dj9kg Directors Helena Ziherl, Reto Steffen, Marlyne Sahakian Editors Reto Steffen, Helena Ziherl, Max Hauri Assistance with on-location shooting Pia Faustino, Abigail Marie Favis and Christine Camata Voiceover Pia Faustino Based on research by Suren Erkman, Shalini Randeria, Marlyne Sahakian, Czarina Saloma, Lorraine Mangaser, Abigail Marie Favis. www.snis.ch
Negros Occidental showcases its top Agri Tourism sites and showing why it is the Organic Food Bowl of the country in this 2014 Living Asia Channel Documentary. INTRODUCTION: Organic Farming, more than a method, has become a movement that has been around for more than a century. Today it's often associated with Sustainable Agriculture, Health Advocacy and Agriculture independence. As the movement continue it's struggle... But a new avenue may provide the means to branch out further to Farm tourism, with the intention to bring together Sustainable Agribusiness and Eco tourism. Can the growing organic industry bridge the best of both worlds? One such province in the Philippines is daring to take on this big ambition. Join us as we explore the farm tourism industry of Negros Occidental and meet the people willing and open to share their business insights.
ANG ISYU KARON - ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CORP. (PART 1 OF 3) --------------- SEC ADVISORY The Commission has received information that individuals or group of persons representing ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CORPORATION ("ORGANICO") are enticing the public to invest in the said entity online or through the internet. Based on the information communicated and gathered by the Commission, ORGANICO is engaged in soliciting investment wherein an investor must invest at least 10 shares, one (1) share costs Php1,800.00, and for every share an investor gets Php450.00 every 15 days for a total of Php2,700.00 in 3 months. Allegedly, the money invested will be used to fund the company's diverse businesses which includes: organic farming, organic poultry, organic piggery, restaurant serving organic food, telemarketing, music studio and construction and eventually, an organic meat shop. Another investment scheme is the 90-day investment, where for every Php3,600.00 invested, one piglet is raised and sold after 3 months and the investor gets his money back with profit for a total of Php7,000.00. The public is hereby informed that ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CORPORATION is NOT registered with the Commission as a corporation nor as a partnership under the Corporation Code of the Philippines and is NOT authorized to offer, solicit, sell or distribute any investment/securities. Such activities require a Secondary License from the Commission and the securities or investment product should likewise be registered with SEC before they can be offered or sold to the public under Sections 8 and 12 of the Securities Regulation Code (SRC). Consequently, those who act as salesmen, brokers, dealers or agents of ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CORPORATION in selling or convincing people to invest in the investment scheme including solicitations or recruitment through the internet may likewise be prosecuted and held criminally liable under Section 28 of the Securities Regulation Code and penalized with a maximum fine of Five Million pesos (P5,000,000.00) or penalty of Twenty One (21) years imprisonment or both pursuant to Section 73 of the SRC. Accordingly, those who invite or recruit other people to join or invest in this venture or offer contracts or securities to the public may be held liable or accordingly sanctioned or penalized in accordance with the Supreme Court decision in the case of SEC vs. Oudine Santos (G.R. No. 195542, March 19, 2014). Furthermore, the names of all those involved will be reported to the Bureau of Internal Revenue (BIR) so that the appropriate penalties and/or taxes be correspondingly assessed. In view thereof, the public is hereby advised to exercise caution before investing in these kinds of activities and to take the necessary precaution in dealing with ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CORPORATION or its representatives. Should you have any information regarding the operation of the subject entity, please call the Enforcement and Investor Protection Department at telephone numbers 818-6047. For guidance of the public.. Source: http://www.sec.gov.ph/organico-agribusiness-ventures-corporation/ ---------------------------------------- ANG ISYU KARON ("The Issue Today") - "The Issue Today" - A station produced commentary program about social-political events on the national and local scene. It endeavors to educate our listeners on certain issues affecting them so that at the end of the day, they make informed and free decisions. This program is heard over DYRF (1215 kHz Cebu City) Radio Fuerza- AM, a station owned and operated by Word Broadcasting Corporation, under the Catholic Media Network in the Philippines. The station's studio is located at Ground Floor, University of San Carlos, P. del Rosario St., Cebu City, and its transmitter is located at Basak San Nicolas, Cebu City. DYRF-AM operates daily from 4:45 AM to 11:00 PM. The format of the station is music, news, public service and religious programming. Listen to ANG ISYU KARON over DYRF 1215 – Cebu every Monday to Friday from 8 pm to 9 am. You may tune in to the live broadcast at http://dyrf1215.weebly.com or you may watch the program live on facebook via this accounts: https://www.facebook.com/word.broadcasting or https://www.facebook.com/dyrfradio
Kasama ang Kapuso actress na si Lovely Abella, samahan natin siyang bisitahin ang ilang mga relaxing spas na mapupuntahan sa Metro Manila! Aired: June 3, 2017 Watch 'Pinoy MD' every Saturday morning on GMA Network, hosted by Connie Sison. Subscribe to us! http://www.youtube.com/user/GMAPublicAffairs?sub_confirmation=1 Find your favorite GMA Public Affairs and GMA News TV shows online! http://www.gmanews.tv/publicaffairs http://www.gmanews.tv/newstv
Featuring Nizarikka's travel to Philippines for 3 days. A small attempt to capture all the moments of the day. എന്റെ ഒരു കൊച്ചു Philippines Vlog || Travel Vlog || Trivandrum to Manila || Salu Plus You can mail me at : saluplus2018@gmail.com #SaluKitchen #SaluPlus
Plastic polluted neighborhoods in Manila are taking things into their own hands by creating systemic zero waste programs that collect all recyclables, compost all organics, and push for corporate accountability. GET INVOLVED: https://www.storyofplastic.org/ FOLLOW US: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/storyofstuff/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/storyofstuff Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/storyofstuff/ SUPPORT THE PROJECT: https://action.storyofstuff.org/donate/social_donations/ Help us caption & translate this video! https://amara.org/v/nVbK/
The Peninsula Manila's Old Manila collaborates with organic farm Holy Carabao for a limited edition farm-to-table degustation menu. Created by the restaurant's head chef Allan Briones, the dishes on the menu highlight the organic products of the farm. Holy Carabao is owned by Hindy Weber Tantoco and is located in Sta. Rosa, Laguna. It's vision is to organically cultivate local and indigenous fruits and vegetables. The farm also produces dairy products, poultry, and other meat. The six-course degustation menu starts at P3,850 per person and will run from May 15 to June 2, 2018.
HOMEGROWN ORGANICS - https://www.instagram.com/myhomegrownorganic
2016 Makati Metro Manila Driving Tour Overview. Makati is the financial hub of the Philippines with the highest concentration of multinational and local corporations in the country including the trading floor of the Philippine Stock Exchange. All major banks, corporations, department stores as well as foreign embassies are based in Makati. Makati is also known for being the cultural and entertainment hub of Metro Manila. In 1851, Don José Bonifacio Roxas (an ancestor of the Zobel de Ayala family) purchased the Jesuit estate of "Hacienda de San Pedro de Macati" for 52,800 pesos. Since then, the development of Makati has remained inextricably linked to the Zóbel de Ayala family and their company, Ayala Corporation. Majority of the tallest skyscrapers in the Philippines are located in Makati such as the PBCom Tower, Gramercy Residences in Century City and G.T. International Tower. Makati is also a shopping hub of Metro Manila and convenient as the various shopping centers are all interconnected offering both international and local retail shops, high-end boutiques, dining outlets and entertainment facilities. The Ayala Center is a massive commercial development operated by Ayala Land with high-end malls that houses cinemas, local and international shops, homegrown restaurants and international food chains. The shopping malls that are located at the Ayala Center complex include Greenbelt, Glorietta, Park Square, and The Link. The Ayala Center is also home to 3 department stores namely, SM Makati, Rustan's, and The Landmark. 5 Star hotels within walking distance of Ayala Center are: Shangri-La Makati, New World Hotel, Dusit Thani, Holiday Inn, Ascott, Fairmont Hotel, Raffles Residences and the Manila Peninsula. Additionally there are weekend street markets: The Salcedo Saturday Market and Legazpi Sunday Market which are popular open-air community markets. These markets offers organic products, specialty foods, fruits, vegetables, fish, gourmet items and antiques. MABUHAY and Welcome to Hour Philippines TV the #1 Food Travel and Lifestyle Vlog: Live - Love - Eat! Thanks for dropping by. Please subscribe, like, share and comment on our videos! ♥ We upload daily and weekly! Your essential guide to unforgettable food, travel and nightlife adventures in the Philippines and beyond! Have a great day and a fantastic life ahead! :-) Cheers, Lord and Aksana Food | Travel | Lifestyle | Parties | Nightlife | Events For business inquiries, please send us a message :-) www.HourPhilippines.com
100% Natural & Organic Soap Making Workshop in Manila Philippines by Caress By Nature Australia
Manila ( i/məˈnɪl.ə/) is the capital city of the Philippines. It is the home to extensive commerce and seats the executive and judicial branches of the Filipino government. It also contains vast amount of significant architectural and cultural landmarks in the country. Manila is one of the sixteen cities that makes up Metro Manila, the National Capital Region of the Philippines. In 2012, Globalization and World Cities Research Network listed Manila as a global city.
Manila is on the eastern shore of Manila Bay. According to the 2010 census, Manila is the second most populous city in the Philippines with a population of 1,652,171. Manila is the most densely populated city in the world with 42,857 people per square kilometer.
Manila has six representative districts for the lower house of the Philippine Congress. Furthermore, the city is composed of 16 districts, namely: Binondo, Ermita, Intramuros, Malate, Paco, Pandacan, Port Area, Quiapo, Sampaloc, San Andres, San Miguel, San Nicolas, Santa Ana, Santa Cruz, Santa Mesa and Tondo.
This page contains text from Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia -	https://wn.com/Manila
"Manila" is a song by Filipino band The Hotdogs. The song is written about love for the Philippine capital. It tells about a man who misses Manila while living in another country for years. The upbeat song was inspired by Tony Bennett's hit single, "I Left My Heart in San Francisco". It topped the radio charts in 1984.
It centers on the story of the narrator who left Manila for a foreign country for to work and became homesick for Manila after living out for long. The narrator then tells of his many adventures outside the country.
Some lyrics reference the United States and Australia. "I walked the streets of San Francisco" references his love for visiting places and strolling around and SFO is one of them. "I've tried the rides in Disneyland" tells of him visiting many amusement and theme parks. His friendship with foreigners and different nationalities is referred in "dated a million girls in Sydney". The narrator then says that he didn't get much satisfaction and enjoyment from all his escapades through the part "somehow I feel that I don't belong". His realization that the Philippines can only give him the best satisfaction and enjoyment plus his desire to come back to the Philippines and its capital, Manila start in "Hinahanap-hanap kita Manila". The narrator then decided to stay in the Philippines for good in the lyrics "Take me back in your arms Manila", "Promise me you'll never let go", and "I'm coming home to stay".
This page contains text from Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia -	https://wn.com/Manila_(Hotdogs_song)
Manila is an independently produced twinbill film that pays homage to Lino Brocka's Jaguar and Ishmael Bernal's Manila By Night. Piolo Pascual co-produced and starred in both episodes.
Piolo Pascual as William / Phillip
Rosanna Roces as Juliana
Jay Manalo as Tristan
Alessandra de Rossi as Aleria
Anita Linda as Seniora Aleria
William Martinez as Dr. Soriano
Angelica Panganiban as Sydney
Baron Geisler as Jorge
Menggie Cobarrubias as Hector
Marissa Delgado as Rodelya
Cherrie Madrigal as Nora
Jiro Manio as Nino
Aleck Bovick as Limelyn
John Lapus as Julie
Katherine Luna as Bernadette
Shot on 16mm black-and-white film before being transferred to 35mm, Manila is divided into a Day episode (which is loosely based on Bernal's 1980 film Manila By Night) and a Night episode (inspired by Brocka's 1979 film Jaguar). The script is co-written by Adolf Alix, Jr. and Ramon Sarmiento and co-directed by Raya Martin and Adolf Alix, Jr.
For the Day segment, Piolo Pascual portrays William, a drug addict who tries to rebuild his sense of self and reconnect with the people around him. Piolo's character is named William in honor of William Martinez who played the lead role in Manila By Night. The Day segment also stars Angelica Panganiban and Rosanna Roces.
This page contains text from Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia -	https://wn.com/Manila_(2009_film)
Metropolitan Manila (Filipino: Kalakhang Maynila, Kamaynilaan), commonly known as Metro Manila, the National Capital Region (NCR) of the Philippines, is the seat of government and the most populous region of the country which is composed of Manila, the capital city of the country, Quezon City, the country's most populous city, the Municipality of Pateros, and the cities of Caloocan, Las Piñas, Makati, Malabon, Mandaluyong, Marikina, Muntinlupa, Navotas, Parañaque, Pasay, Pasig, San Juan, Taguig, and Valenzuela.
The National Capital Region has a population of 7007118559750000000♠11,855,975, making it the most populous region in the Philippines, as well as the 7th most populous metropolitan area in Asia. Its total urban area, referring to its continuous urban expansion into the provinces of Bulacan, Cavite, Laguna, Rizal and Batangas has a population of 7007241230000000000♠24,123,000, making it the 3rd most populous urban area in the world.
The region is the center of culture, economy, education, and government of the Philippines. NCR is one of the 12 defined metropolitan areas in the Philippines according to the National Economic and Development Authority. Designated as a global power city, NCR exerts a significant impact on commerce, finance, media, art, fashion, research, technology, education, and entertainment, both locally and internationally. It is the home to all the consulates and embassies in the Philippines, thereby making it an important center for international diplomacy in the country.
This page contains text from Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia -	https://wn.com/Metro_Manila
Metro Manila is 2013 British-Filipino independently produced crime drama film directed by Sean Ellis. Ellis also co-produced and co-wrote the film. The film was selected as the British entry for the Best Foreign Language Film at the 86th Academy Awards, but it was not nominated.
Jake Macapagal as Oscar Ramirez
Althea Vega as Mai Ramirez
John Arcilla as Ong
Leon Miguel as White-eyed Man
Looking for a better life in Metro Manila, Oscar Ramirez and his family escape their impoverished lives among the rice fields north of the Philippines. Upon arriving, they fall victim to the manipulative ways of city hucksters. Oscar lands a job in an armored truck company. He befriends his senior officer, Ong, who takes Oscar under his wing.
Soon, it becomes apparent that Ong has been waiting for someone like Oscar for a long time.
The film was shot on location in the Philippines in 2011 with a Filipino cast and crew members. The Filipino language is used throughout the film.
This page contains text from Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia -	https://wn.com/Metro_Manila_(film)
The Ayala Center is a major commercial development operated by Ayala Land located in the Makati Central Business District in Metro Manila, Philippines. The center is now a premier shopping and cultural district in the metropolis because of its wide array of shopping, entertainment and cultural offerings.
The Ayala Center is a recreational, shopping, dining, and entertainment development located in the heart of Makati. Its location places it virtually at the heart of the country's commercial and business center. It is bounded by Ayala Avenue on the east, Epifanio de los Santos Avenue (EDSA) on the south, Arnaiz Avenue on the west, and to north by Legazpi Street and Paseo de Roxas. The Ayala MRT Station of the MRT Line 3 serves the area. The development originally started with a number of separate shopping arcades and Greenbelt Park before expanding to cover over 50 hectares{of facilities. Today the complex now includes several malls, each with its own shopping and restaurant arcades and cinemas; three department stores, a number of hotels; and the Ayala Museum, showcasing exhibits on Philippine history and art.
This page contains text from Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia -	https://wn.com/Ayala_Center
Negros Occidental (Filipino: Kanlurang Negros; Hiligaynon: Negros Nakatundan), also known as Occidental Negros or Western Negros is a province in the Philippines located in the Negros Island region. Its capital is Bacolod City and it occupies the northwestern half of Negros Island; Negros Oriental is at the southeastern half. Across the Panay Gulf and the Guimaras Strait to the northwest is the island-province of Guimaras and the province of Iloilo on Panay Island. Known as the "Sugarbowl of the Philippines", Negros Occidental produces more than half the nation's sugar output.
The primary spoken language is Hiligaynon (also known as Ilonggo) and the predominant religious denomination is Roman Catholicism. With a population of 3,100,651, it is the most populated province in the Negros Island Region, the second-most populous province in the Visayas after Cebu and the fifth most populous province of Philippines.
Negros Island was originally known to the natives as "Buglas". When the Spaniards arrived in April 1565, they named it "Negros" because of the dark-skinned natives they found. Two of the earliest native settlements were Binalbagan and Ilog which later became towns in 1572 and 1584, respectively. Other settlements were Hinigaran, Negros Occidental, Bago, Marayo (now Pontevedra), Mamalan (now Himamaylan) and Candaguit (a sitio in San Enrique).
This page contains text from Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia -	https://wn.com/Negros_Occidental
Radio Stations - Manila
Radio Maria Philippenes Religious Philippines
DPHI Classical Filipino Radio Folk,Classical,World Philippines
DWXY-FM 100.5 Tuguegarao, Cagayan Varied Philippines
Sports Radio - Philippines Sports,Talk Philippines
PHR 80.9 Adult Contemporary Philippines
RMN manila News Talk Philippines
96.3 DW ROCK (eRadioportal) Adult Contemporary,Pop Philippines
DZRJ-AM 810 Metro Manila News Talk Philippines
Home Radio 97.9 FM Adult Contemporary Philippines
Radyo Natin 103.9 World Asia Philippines
DWFM 92.3 (Radyo5) Quezon City News Talk Philippines
DYOK - Aksyon Radio Iloilo (720 AM) Varied Philippines
DZRM 1278 Philippine Radyo Magazine News Talk,Talk Philippines
Solid Dabarkadz Radio World Asia Philippines
Classical Philippines Radio Folk,Classical,World Philippines
Radyo Pilipinas (DZRP) News,Public Philippines
JAM 88.3 FM Varied Philippines
EnergyFM Manila Adult Contemporary Philippines
DZRB (738 AM) Varied,News Philippines
DZRJ-FM 100.3 (RJ 100) Makati City Varied Philippines
Kirubai Fm Gospel,Christian,Indian Philippines
Olione Top 40 Hits Top 40 Philippines
ABN Radio FM Pop Philippines
Favradio World Philippines
90.7 Love Radio Manila Adult Contemporary,Pop Philippines
Radyo Veritas (AM 846) Christian,Talk Philippines
DZAS (Eradioportal.com) Varied Philippines
DWIZ (Eradioportal.com) Varied Philippines
DZRH (Eradioportal.com) World,Reggae Philippines
ProManila vs Organic Manila rope 2 years later (Sun rot vs mold)
organic/natural farming: sunshine free-range/pastured chicken
Organic food in Manila
Organic Farming in the Philippines: Living Asia Channel Documentary Organic Negros Occidental
ANG ISYU KARON - ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CORP. (PART 1 OF 3)
Pinoy MD: Relaxing spas na pwedeng subukan sa Metro Manila
എന്റെ ഒരു കൊച്ചു Philippines Vlog || Travel Vlog || Trivandrum to Manila || Salu Plus
Manila's Zero Waste Neighborhoods
NEW ON THE MENU | Old Manila X Holy Carabao
V L O G - EVENT SA MANILA PENINSULA | NAGKULOT PERO MUKANG BAGONG GISING?
2016 Makati Metro Manila Driving Tour Overview by HourPhilippines.com
Manila Soap Making Workshop
http://foodconsumption.snis.ch/ This film is part of a series of 6 films that reveal the complexity of food consumption dynamics among the middle classes in two rapidly changing, urban centres: Metro Manila, the Philippines and Bangalore, India. Based on a two-year academic research project, the six films highlight the changing patterns, practices and policies related to food consumption in these two mega-cities. Eating in and food waste in Bangalore https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWlt_DnGqhE Eating out and food waste. Reduce, Reuse and Recycle in Bangalore https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=unHbNPTYrKc Waste management and recycling in Bangalore https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROaRcJVJdIg Distinctly Filipino Cuisine in Manila https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oi2XOdgMAUk Eating out and food...
Negros Occidental showcases its top Agri Tourism sites and showing why it is the Organic Food Bowl of the country in this 2014 Living Asia Channel Documentary. INTRODUCTION: Organic Farming, more than a method, has become a movement that has been around for more than a century. Today it's often associated with Sustainable Agriculture, Health Advocacy and Agriculture independence. As the movement continue it's struggle... But a new avenue may provide the means to branch out further to Farm tourism, with the intention to bring together Sustainable Agribusiness and Eco tourism. Can the growing organic industry bridge the best of both worlds? One such province in the Philippines is daring to take on this big ambition. Join us as we explore the farm tourism industry of Negros Occidental...
ANG ISYU KARON - ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CORP. (PART 1 OF 3) --------------- SEC ADVISORY The Commission has received information that individuals or group of persons representing ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CORPORATION ("ORGANICO") are enticing the public to invest in the said entity online or through the internet. Based on the information communicated and gathered by the Commission, ORGANICO is engaged in soliciting investment wherein an investor must invest at least 10 shares, one (1) share costs Php1,800.00, and for every share an investor gets Php450.00 every 15 days for a total of Php2,700.00 in 3 months. Allegedly, the money invested will be used to fund the company's diverse businesses which includes: organic farming, organic poultry, organic piggery, rest...
2016 Makati Metro Manila Driving Tour Overview. Makati is the financial hub of the Philippines with the highest concentration of multinational and local corporations in the country including the trading floor of the Philippine Stock Exchange. All major banks, corporations, department stores as well as foreign embassies are based in Makati. Makati is also known for being the cultural and entertainment hub of Metro Manila. In 1851, Don José Bonifacio Roxas (an ancestor of the Zobel de Ayala family) purchased the Jesuit estate of "Hacienda de San Pedro de Macati" for 52,800 pesos. Since then, the development of Makati has remained inextricably linked to the Zóbel de Ayala family and their company, Ayala Corporation. Majority of the tallest skyscrapers in the Philippines are located in...
Help Support the Channel Below: **Subscribe to Channel: https://www.youtube.com/NoNonsenseKnowHow?sub_confirmation=1 **Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/NoNo...
https://wn.com/Promanila_Vs_Organic_Manila_Rope_2_Years_Later_(Sun_Rot_Vs_Mold)
https://wn.com/Organic_Natural_Farming_Sunshine_Free_Range_Pastured_Chicken
http://foodconsumption.snis.ch/ This film is part of a series of 6 films that reveal the complexity of food consumption dynamics among the middle classes in tw...
https://wn.com/Organic_Food_In_Manila
Uploaded Date: 06 Aug 2014
Negros Occidental showcases its top Agri Tourism sites and showing why it is the Organic Food Bowl of the country in this 2014 Living Asia Channel Documentary. ...
https://wn.com/Organic_Farming_In_The_Philippines_Living_Asia_Channel_Documentary_Organic_Negros_Occidental
ANG ISYU KARON - ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CORP. (PART 1 OF 3) --------------- SEC ADVISORY The Commission has received information that individuals...
https://wn.com/Ang_Isyu_Karon_Organico_Agribusiness_Ventures_Corp._(Part_1_Of_3)
Kasama ang Kapuso actress na si Lovely Abella, samahan natin siyang bisitahin ang ilang mga relaxing spas na mapupuntahan sa Metro Manila! Aired: June 3, 2017 ...
https://wn.com/Pinoy_Md_Relaxing_Spas_Na_Pwedeng_Subukan_Sa_Metro_Manila
Featuring Nizarikka's travel to Philippines for 3 days. A small attempt to capture all the moments of the day. എന്റെ ഒരു കൊച്ചു Philippines Vlog || Travel Vlog...
https://wn.com/എന്റെ_ഒരു_കൊച്ചു_Philippines_Vlog_||_Travel_Vlog_||_Trivandrum_To_Manila_||_Salu_Plus
Plastic polluted neighborhoods in Manila are taking things into their own hands by creating systemic zero waste programs that collect all recyclables, compost a...
https://wn.com/Manila's_Zero_Waste_Neighborhoods
The Peninsula Manila's Old Manila collaborates with organic farm Holy Carabao for a limited edition farm-to-table degustation menu. Created by the restaurant's ...
https://wn.com/New_On_The_Menu_|_Old_Manila_X_Holy_Carabao
Uploaded Date: 07 Jul 2018
https://wn.com/V_L_O_G_Event_Sa_Manila_Peninsula_|_Nagkulot_Pero_Mukang_Bagong_Gising
Uploaded Date: 15 Apr 2016
2016 Makati Metro Manila Driving Tour Overview. Makati is the financial hub of the Philippines with the highest concentration of multinational and local corpor...
https://wn.com/2016_Makati_Metro_Manila_Driving_Tour_Overview_By_Hourphilippines.Com
https://wn.com/Manila_Soap_Making_Workshop
manilaorganics.com
manilabiz.com
marineorganics.com
manilacreative.com
manilaadvertising.com
musicorganics.com
manilabusinessnews.com
manilaredlight.com
manila3d.com
manilabusinesstimes.com
manilaheadlines.com
manilacitizen.com
manilainteractive.com
manilatop50.com
manilahello.com
manilaxpress.com
softwareorganics.com
manilapub.com
himalayaorganics.com
Help Support the Channel Below: **Subscribe to Channel: https://www.youtube.com/NoNonsense...
http://foodconsumption.snis.ch/ This film is part of a series of 6 films that reveal the ...
Negros Occidental showcases its top Agri Tourism sites and showing why it is the Organic F...
ANG ISYU KARON - ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CORP. (PART 1 OF 3) --------------- SEC...
Kasama ang Kapuso actress na si Lovely Abella, samahan natin siyang bisitahin ang ilang mg...
Featuring Nizarikka's travel to Philippines for 3 days. A small attempt to capture all the...
Plastic polluted neighborhoods in Manila are taking things into their own hands by creatin...
The Peninsula Manila's Old Manila collaborates with organic farm Holy Carabao for a limite...
2016 Makati Metro Manila Driving Tour Overview. Makati is the financial hub of the Philip...
100% Natural & Organic Soap Making Workshop in Manila Philippines by Caress By Nature Aust...
Latest News for: Manila organics
HMOs ordered to provide medical coverage to HIV patients
Inquirer 29 Jun 2019
MANILA, Philippines --- The Insurance Commission (IC) has ordered health maintenance organizations (HMOs) to provide medical coverage to those afflicted with the dreaded human immunodeficiency virus (HIV). Circular Letter No. 2019-30 issued by Insurance Commissioner Dennis B. Funa on June 21 is in line with Republic Act (RA) No ... ....
ProManila vs Organic Manila rope 2 years later (Su...
organic/natural farming: sunshine free-range/pastu...
Organic food in Manila...
Organic Farming in the Philippines: Living Asia Ch...
ANG ISYU KARON - ORGANICO AGRIBUSINESS VENTURES CO...
Pinoy MD: Relaxing spas na pwedeng subukan sa Metr...
എന്റെ ഒരു കൊച്ചു Philippines Vlog || Travel Vlog |...
Manila's Zero Waste Neighborhoods...
NEW ON THE MENU | Old Manila X Holy Carabao...
V L O G - EVENT SA MANILA PENINSULA | NAGKULOT PER...
2016 Makati Metro Manila Driving Tour Overview by ...
Manila Soap Making Workshop...


Want to have a very small wedding ceremony on the beach.
2 years, 32 months ago Hello, we do not book air only.
I think so 1 year, 20 months ago The Level is the adults only section.You'd probably be OK, but you might get a little bored if you were there very long.Let Melia Nassau be the location of your dream wedding.It is a good buffet.They mention 3 extra for a third person?!It picked us up right in front of the hotel.We were asked what we wanted in bed size checking.4 years, 56 months ago The resort allows smoking outside only.They will bring it to you with in minutes.One local beer in can and one on draft.Room Information Melia Nassau Beach All-Inclusive features 694 guestrooms, including 32 suites.If you like to get a massage when on vacation, you can catch the free shuttle to the very expensive Baha Mar Hotel's Espa (ex: 260USD for a 60 min massage).
No shuttle unless you get the shuttle that comes with the extra charge.
We had a group of 30 people.


M is for 'modificato' – or modified. Ferrari has used the letter as a suffix on some of the various direct and indirect predecessors of this week's road test subject several times: on the 575M, 456M and F512M.
While the observant will have noticed that it hasn't actually used it on the official model name of the new 812 Superfast, it has used it on the car's internal codename. The car's immediate predecessor, the 2012 F12 Berlinetta, was simply known as 'F152' to anyone personally connected to its creation; the new 812 is 'F152M'. Which tells you a lot about what's underneath this car, how 'new' it really is and how close a relationship it has to the F12.
The Superfast is in essence a widely and significantly updated version of the F12. It brings quite a substantial power hike, as well as some transmission, suspension, aerodynamic and steering revisions, to the market for front-engined 'Super GT' coupés, which Ferrari so famously dominated and influenced through cars such as the 250 and 275, the 365 GTB/4 'Daytona' and the 550 Maranello.
The power increase would thrust Maranello's latest series production flagship through the '800' horsepower threshold if only us Brits accounted for those horses in the same way in which they're rounded up and numbered in mainland Europe.
It comes courtesy of a larger-capacity V12 than the F12 Berlinetta used (and that the GTC4 still uses), and it also delivers more torque here than came with the limited-series F12tdf. The 812 gets many of the suspension, steering and aerodynamic features pioneered on the F12tdf too.
Ferrari's aim with all of this? To send the 812's performance benchmarks soaring even higher than the F12 Berlinetta's were relative to those of its rivals and to give it, in Ferrari's own words, "the most riveting and rewarding driving experience possible".
But what are the inevitable consequences and compromises to the car's core abilities as a distance-covering, head-scrambling, two-seater grand tourer? Stand by to find out.