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fy-bsk · 10 months
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230528 - WONWOO Instagram update
everyone_woo 사랑하는 사람들과❤️
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Lobster Catching Made Easy With The Best Quality Lobster Catch Bag
Get the best lobster catch bags to make your lobster catching quick and easy. Its durable construction and fine mesh netting allow for easier handling and more efficient trapping of lobsters. With a convenient drawstring closure, the Lobster Catch Bag is the perfect tool for a successful lobster fishing trip. For the best quality catch bags visit us right now.
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fy-ace7 · 5 years
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official_ACE7:
[#ACE] Dance practice (Finalboss) #ACE #FreshDonghun #God #TheBest #DanceGodDanceKing #Legend #Incomparable #SoCool #ThisIsYouOnOurEyeLevel #ItsOVER
trans © fy-ace7
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into-blk · 6 years
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[릴레이 댄스] BLK 'HERO' [Relay Dance] BLK 'HERO'::Makestar
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unb-fy · 6 years
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#Repost @nylonkorea with @get_repost ・・・ 나일론 5월호 커버모델은 #더유닛 의 아홉 우승자 #유앤비 입니다. 20일부터 서점에서 만나보실 수 있어요. <나일론>은 지면 기획에서 확장된 영상 콘텐츠를 대다수 페이지에서 함께 제공합니다. 한 손엔 <나일론> 다른 한손엔 핸드폰을 들고, 잡지를 읽고 보는 새로운 경험을 즐겨보시길. #잡지를보는새로운방식 #나일론5월호 #커버모델 #unb
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arohauniverse · 6 years
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[ KBS WORLD TV TWITTER ☆ 2017.09.29 ]
#KWF2017 CELEBRITY CHECK IN!!!! #RED_CARPET #PHOTO_TIME
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cherryontoparchive · 5 years
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180919
[#ㅇㅇㅇㅇㅅㄴㅇ] 징짜..ㅠㅠㅠㅠ칭구들❤️너무너무 감사히 잘받을게요💓💓우리가 카스타드 쪼아하는건 또!!!어뚜케!!!!!알구!!!!!💖💘💞💗💝💓🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️서울 올라가는 내내 행복하게 잘 먹을게요!!사랑해요오옹👍💕💕💕💕다음에 또 만나요🤭🤭 #전국기능경기대회
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24kdaily · 7 years
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Simply KPOP: Group Fancam
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hivawareness-blog · 5 years
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PRECAUTIONS
Standard precautions combine the major features of universal precautions (UP) and body substance isolation (BSI) and are based on the principle that all body fluids, secretions, excretions and mucous membranes may contain transmissible infectious agents.
Prevention strategies
Pharmaceutical:
Some commonly considered pharmaceutical interventions for the prevention of HIV is
·         Microbicides for sexually transmitted disease
·         Pre-expose Prophylaxis
·         Condom
·         Antiretroviral dugs
·         Low dead space syringe
Social strategies
These do not require any drug or object. It requires person to change their behavior to gain protection from HIV
·         Sex education
·         Safe injection sites
·         Safe sex
·         Needle exchange programs
·         Sexual abstinence
THERE IS NO EFFECTIVE VACCINATION FOR HIV TREATMENT
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burningembcr · 6 years
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dazzledbybooks · 4 years
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Ever since her mother walked out, Trix McCabe has been determined to make it on her own. And with her near-magical gift for pulling valuables off unsuspecting strangers, Trix is confident she has what it takes to survive. Until she’s caught and given a choice: jail time, or go live with her long-lost family in the tiny town of Rocksaw, Kansas. Trix doesn’t plan to stick around Rocksaw long, but there’s something special about her McCabe relatives that she is drawn to. Her aunt, Mia, bakes pies that seem to cure all ills. Her cousin, Ember, can tell a person’s deepest secret with the touch of a hand. And Trix’s great-aunt takes one look at Trix’s palm and tells her that if she doesn’t put down roots somewhere, she won’t have a future anywhere. Before long, Trix feels like she might finally belong with this special group of women in this tiny town in Kansas. But when her past comes back to haunt her, she’ll have to decide whether to take a chance on this new life . . . or keep running from the one she’s always known. With lovable and flawed characters, an evocative setting, and friendships to treasure, A Constellation of Roses is the perfect companion to Miranda Asebedo’s debut novel The Deepest Roots. A Constellation of Roses by Miranda Asebedo Publisher: HarperTeen Release Date: November 5th 2019 Genre: Young Adult Contemporary Book Links: Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/41021973-a-constellation-of-roses Amazon: https://amzn.to/31zyTR2 Bookdepository: https://www.bookdepository.com/Constellation-Roses-Miranda-Asebedo/9780062747105?ref=grid-view&qid=1568883944503&sr=1-1 B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-constellation-of-roses-miranda-asebedo/1129473584#/ Google Books:  https://books.google.co.uk/books/about/A_Constellation_of_Roses.html?id=TBb9wQEACAAJ&redir_esc=y iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/a-constellation-of-roses/id1451488194 Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/hk/en/ebook/a-constellation-of-roses Favorite Quotes: "Fortune telling isn't a science. It's an art. And sometimes art is messy." “When I remove my hands from my face I see that he’s grinning too. That scar pulls at his eye, and that’s when I realize that it only does that sometimes when he smiles, not every time. I don’t know why, but this seems important." “Scars tell a story, even when we don’t want them to.” "How do I stay active when I have frequent bladder leaks?" "I can run away as easily as I have all the times before. I slipped up going back to the starlight. I won't make that mistake again." “It’s both beautiful and frightening to feel like you’re being seen, truly, for the first time.” “All I know is that it’s the good memories that cut the deepest, because those are the ones where you remember what you’ve lost.” “I earn my money now. I don’t steal it. You don’t steal from a town where you mean to put down roots.” “I’ve been invisible for months at a time while I was drifting, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone make me feel that way on purpose.” Review: A Constellation of Roses by Miranda Asebedo is such a good book. I really enjoyed this one. Trix McCabe is a 17 year old girl who is gifted with being able to pick pocket without ever raising suspicion. She has been living in a motel ever since her mother left. She pays for this motel with cash every week. Her life is not great. It isn't even good. Drug addicts and johns visit this place all the time. The last thing that Trix feels is safe or loved. Everything is better than being back in the foster system. One day Trix is picked up by the cops and she has a choice to make. She can go to jail or she can move in with her long lost relatives in the middle of nowhere. Trix chooses not to go to jail. On top of everything these women has magical gifts. Trix has no idea what she got herself into. I thought the magical realism in this book was so good. Asebedo did such a great job with this concept of secret special magical gifts. This story has a lot of raw emotions and I really needed that in a book right now. I felt like this was such a beautiful story that focused on family and forgiveness. Trix has such a heartbreaking story and I am glad that Asebedo was able to tell it. Even though this book handles several heavier and difficult issues, Asebedor handled it was grace. I thought she did a great job making sure there was still hope in the book. Plus the humor helped. I can't get enough of this book. You should definitley check it out. Excerpt: Chapter 1 My hand slips into the woman’s gaping purse like it’s my own. Fingers nimble and sure on her wallet, I brush against her as if I am just impatient to get through the crowds of people milling around in the Eastside Mall. It’s not hard to do. Everyone here is in a rush to get to the next big sale. That’s why I always pick this place. And because it’s lightly patrolled by burly security guards who stand idly outside upscale department stores and watch for the wolves among the placid, woolly shoppers. My touch is only the softest graze against the woman; she doesn’t even notice. Before I can inhale a full breath of her expen- sive perfume, I’m gone, her billfold in hand. I stuff it into my beat-up bag and lose myself in the throngs of people. This is the third wallet tonight, and by the glimpse of the designer insignia, I’m guessing that I can retire for the evening. I only need enough to cover the week at the motel and maybe something to eat a couple times a day. I steal just enough to get by. No more, no less. I follow the stream of other shoppers as they trickle out of the mall, but when they go to the parking garage to load up their Mer- cedes and their BMWs, I pull on my hood and walk into the wind. It’s barely September, but lately the evenings are cool enough to make me hope I remembered to turn the radiator on low before I left the motel. One of the security guards making the rounds in the parking lot briefly scrutinizes a girl with a black hoodie and ripped jeans and says something into his walkie-talkie, but I don’t worry about him. You see, I’ve got a gift. Once I watched a movie about this little boy who could heal people with his hands. They said he had “a gift from God.” I’ve never seen God, and from the few times I prayed with the pious foster mom whose husband whipped me with a belt when I spilled juice on their new carpet, it became clear to me that if there was a God, he didn’t see me, either. But my gift is okay, too, regardless of where it came from. My hands are swift, undetectable. I was born a thief. I’m sure there are more people out there like me. Some strange twist of DNA giving us gifts like perfect pitch or immor- tal cells or quick hands or even healing ones. I don’t think I was chosen or found worthy. I think I’m just damn lucky. Sometimes for fun I like to watch the security-camera footage at the bodega next to the Happy Host. I wander in the aisles, loading up, barely a shadow on the screen above the register, just someone in a hoodie with her hands firmly in her pockets. No one sees a thing. Ever. I catch a city bus on the next block, careful not to meet the eyes of the other commuters as we make our way to the west side of town. Sure, most of these people are the unseen—the busboys, the cleaning ladies, the trash collectors. But a few are thieves and pickpockets like me, and they’re on their way home, some licking their lips and others licking their wounds. I want to blend in with the unseen. Nothing in my bag but minimum wage and an empty lunch box, not stolen rent money. Instead I stare at the sturdy shoes of the older couple sitting across from me, their clasped hands resting between them on the vinyl seat. I get my sketchbook from my bag and begin to draw those hands with stolen pencils. Sketching my surroundings is something I’ve done since I was old enough to notice the shadows moving from the small split in the curtains of whatever motel room I was living in, some desperate admiration for the way dark and light give depth and meaning to everything. I use short, scratchy strokes to show the way the couple’s fingers intertwine, nicks on the knuckles where the dry, red skin has split. There’s something beautiful about the way her hands look as rough and cracked as his, so you can’t tell which hand belongs to which person. I like the bus because it makes me feel connected to other people, sharing their stories, even if only for a little while. But eventually, I always remember that I am still alone, and I close my sketchbook and watch the street signs for my destination. I get off at the dark stop two blocks away from the Starlite Motel. Keeping my head down and walking quickly, I ignore the voices and laughter from the doorways and the parking lots I pass. I don’t want to buy anything, and I’m not selling, either. As I get closer, I see that the motel sign says NO VACANCY, which means that the ladies who are my neighbors are probably working. Mom used to work with them sometimes, too, when we lived here. Until she said she was going to get a pack of cigarettes one August afternoon and never came back. That was a little over a year ago, in one of those brief, hopeful lulls when she said she was going to get clean again. I’ve been a lot of places since she left, but I keep drifting back here. I guess because it’s familiar. When I get to the Starlite, there are a lot of cars in the parking lot. It’s Friday, and men do stupid things with their paychecks. I stop at room 7 and, looking over my shoulder, I pull my keys out of my pocket. Once I’m inside, I immediately lock the door behind me and do a quick inspection of the room. I am alone. Mel, the night manager, has kind of a soft spot for the kids who live here, and that’s why he lets me rent a room even though I’m by myself and not eighteen. There aren’t many of us at the Starlite. Me, Charly, and the Quinter twins. Charly shares room 11 with her mom, and Janie Quinter, barely older than me, and her twins are one door down in room 12. The twins are little, though, and usually Charly watches them when their mom is working. Shane used to live here, too. I dump the wallets out on the queen bed. The coverlet is a faded floral print, and it sort of matches the brown carpet and the yellowed curtains. I thumb through my haul, checking every pos- sible pocket for cash that might be hidden. I peel out carefully folded, clean bills. That’s what I like about rich people. Even their money smells better. There’s three hundred seven dollars. Sighing in relief, I clutch the crisp cash to my chest. It’s enough to pay for another week at the Starlite and food for a while. Not a bad night at all. I take half the money and cram it into the jar I keep in the toilet tank, careful to screw the lid back on tightly so my stash doesn’t get wet. No one ever thinks to look in the toilet tank. They always look under the mattress, in the top drawers of the dresser, the cupboard in the corner. I shove the other half of the money into my pocket to pay the rent. The stolen billfolds go in the metal trash can I’ve designated as the burn trash. There’s a small outdoor grill behind the Starlite, and I burn everything but money. I’m not stupid. Credit cards, IDs: those are traceable. I only take the cash. Marie leaves the bot- tle of lighter fluid out there. Who knows what the young, pretty maid burns, but I’m not alone in my activities. My stomach growls. I check the small clock that hangs above the kitchenette area. Calling it a kitchen is a little extravagant when it’s really only a hot plate and a bathroom sink with a dish drainer next to it. I should’ve stopped at the QuikMart to grab a bite on the way home, but it was late, and I knew I should get back before Mel started playing cards with the old man who lives in room 2. Once they start drinking, it’s hard to say if my rent will make it into the till or into the game. I hesitate by the door. I don’t want to go all the way back to the QuikMart, so I do something nice for myself. I order a pizza. Not a cheap one, either. I order one of those deluxe ones from Sal’s, the kind that leaks grease through the cardboard so it leaves stains on the coverlet. I can live off one of those for a couple of days. Then I leave the motel room and lock the door behind me. Hood up, head down, I make my way to the main office. “Trix! Hey, Trix!” The sound of my name seizes my shoulders and urges me to run before I recognize the voice. Charly. “Hey,” she says, jogging up beside me. “Thought that was you. Rent time, huh? Mom just sent me to pay for next week, too.” She holds up the wad of cash so I can see it, the cheap gold rings on her fingers glinting in the lights from the neon NO VACANCY sign. “Don’t flash that around,” I hiss, watching the two guys leaning on an Impala in the parking lot. I don’t know if they’re staying here or waiting for someone, but I don’t want to catch their attention by looking like we’re two easy marks. Charly shrugs and stuffs the money in the pocket of her snug jeans. “What’s the fun of having money if you can’t show it off?” she asks. “Anyway, what are you doing tonight? Can I come over?” “Aren’t you watching the twins?” I ask. “No, Janie’s sick, so she’s not working.” Charly’s a year younger than me, but there’s a tightness in her face, a hardness that makes her seem older. I don’t know; maybe I look that way to other people, too. “You can come over if you want,” I tell her, knowing there’s a fifty-fifty chance she’ll blow me off. Anytime a boyfriend texts, she bails on plans with me. But tonight, I could use the company. I haven’t spoken to another person in nearly a week. Just me in a crowd, me in my room. Just me, alone. Sometimes drifting can be lonely, and it would be nice to feel that somebody cares I’m here. So I add, knowing it will sweeten the deal, “I’ve got a pizza com- ing.” Charly grins, revealing the large gap between her front teeth. “I’m starving.” We both go into the empty motel office, the small bell on the door alerting Mel and Room 2 Old Guy in the back room that we’re there. Mel lumbers in and leans on the front desk, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got the week’s rent for room 11,” Charly says, holding out the wad of cash. Mel takes it, making a face at the crumpled bills. “Tell your mama to stop leaving her shit in the only working dryer,” he grumbles. “Yeah?” Charly says, crossing her arms. The motel has a tiny laundry room with two machines that are out of order more than they’re working. I just wash my clothes in the sink. “Why don’t you fix the other damn dryer, Mel? And since we’re bitching, tell Marie to stop stealing my stuff when she comes in to change the sheets.” Mel grins. He likes spunk. “Room seven,” I tell Mel, handing him my money and avoid- ing the argument altogether. “Another week?” he asks, as if he’s surprised. This will be my second week in a row here. I know I should change motels again, but this one feels safe to me. I guess it’s because Mom and I lived here for three years before she left, which makes it the longest time we ever lived anywhere, and the closest thing to a home. The picture I drew with stolen charcoal pencils on the day we moved in is still on the wall, still hidden behind the generic framed picture of a palm tree on a beach that hangs in every room at the Starlite. “Just one more,” I tell him. “Tell Marie I’ll pick up clean sheets tomorrow. I can change them myself.” Marie’s okay, but Charly’s right: that girl’s got sticky fingers. I would know. “Sure, kid. You going to be in your room tonight? Check out the free movie channels. Some kind of promo from the cable company.” I shrug. “Yeah. No big plans.” Or any in recent months. Charly and I wish Mel good luck with his card game, and then she leaves me at my door to go down to her room. “Let me grab something to drink,” she says. “I’ll be back in a few.” I unlock my door and go inside, carefully locking it again behind me. If I know Charly, she’ll be bringing back a red plastic cup nearly full of vodka she swiped from her mom, and a few cans of soda to cut it with. The guy who fills the vending machine by the front office has a thing for Charly, and he’s always leaving cans of Sprite or Coke by her door like they’re bouquets of flowers. Surprising me given her track record, Charly gets back before the pizza. I know it’s her from the way she kicks the door with the toe of her worn-out sneakers because her hands are full. “Open up. It’s the police,” she bellows, knowing it will terrify all our neighbors. Laughter peals outside the door. Charly never could keep straight-faced during a joke. I peer at her through a crack in the curtains, just in case, before I open the door. There’s a few muffled thuds and then some swearing from the room next door when they realize it’s just Charly out there. She whisks inside with her arms full of exactly what I thought she’d have. When Charly’s mixed us drinks with the cheap plastic cups from the kitchenette, she spills her guts as we lounge on the hard bed, the television turned to a comedy on Mel’s free movie chan- nel. She and her mom are on the rocks again, and she has to dump Dante because he’s still cheating on her, this time with some rich girl on the East Side. Nothing is good anymore, she says, not like it used to be. She twirls her hair as she talks, sips carefully from her drink before she drops her next words. “Let me come with you next week.” “What do you mean?” I ask her, taking a slug of the drink and wincing at the burn. Charly was a little heavy-handed with the vodka, which doesn’t surprise me now that I know she wants something. “You never stay here long anymore. Not like when your mom was still around. I know you’ll leave again. So take me with you.” She looks down into her cup. “I want out. I’m tired of living with my mom. I’m tired of the johns hanging around, and babysit- ting every night, and just living in this shitty motel.” “So you’re just going to drop out of school and hit the road?” I ask. “Why not? You haven’t gone to school regular since your mom left.” I read once that when you lose an arm or a leg, sometimes you get phantom pain, this ache where there’s nothing left to hurt. That’s what it felt like, since Mom walked out. I know she felt like she could never forgive herself for all the things that had happened between us, and maybe she could never forgive me, either, but somehow her absence hurts even more than having her here. You can’t forgive someone if they never come back to you. It wasn’t that I didn’t like school, it was just that I had lost interest in books and tests and tardy slips when Mom left and what small foundation I had crumbled apart. Also, you need a guardian to enroll, and I’d sworn off those about six months ago, after I’d run away from my last group home. “You going to get a job? Or am I supposed to be your sugar mama in this scenario?” I take another swig of the drink and let the vodka sing in my bones, willing it to drown out that phantom pain. “I’ll find a way,” she says. “If Shane was here, he’d help me out. He was going to get us out of here, you know. He promised.” I know she means well when she brings him up. I know she has as much right as I do to say his name. He was my boyfriend for only a year before he went to prison, after all, and Shane had been Charly’s brother all her life. But it stings anyway. I set my cup down on the nightstand and slide off the bed. I go into the bathroom, shut the door, and sit down on the edge of the grimy bathtub. I only need a minute. I haven’t talked about Shane or Mom for a long time. It’s easier that way. I hear Charly standing on the other side of the door. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice muffled. “I shouldn’t have brought him up. We just haven’t talked about him in forever, and I thought you were probably over him by now.” There’s a soft clink of her rings against the knob, but she doesn’t turn it. When you live in a motel with paper-thin walls, you learn to respect boundaries. “It wasn’t your fault, you know. Even if you’d been with him, it wouldn’t have ended any different.” I hear the scrape of her rings as she pulls her hand away. The truth is, I am over Shane. Or I think I am, anyway. Mostly now I feel guilt when I remember him. My gift would have protected him if we had been together when everything happened. But even Shane didn’t really believe me back then. It was luck, he said, when I tried to convince him. I stand up and flush the toilet like I’m not a coward hiding in a motel bathroom. There’s a knock at the door, three times, quick and insistent. Charly calls, “Pizza’s here!” “Wait! Look before you open it!” I shout, flinging open the bathroom door. But it’s too late. Two uniformed police officers are standing outside. “We’re looking for Trixie McCabe,” the younger, female officer says, her hands on her belt. “There’s no Trixie here,” Charly lies easily, starting to close the door. “You have the wrong address.” The other officer, an older man, puts up a hand to stop her from shutting them out. He stares at me where I stand dumbly in the frame of the bathroom door, the toilet still running behind me. He’s seen me already, and slamming the door or running isn’t going to make any difference now. I hear swearing and slamming, other people in the Starlite getting out before the cops come knocking on their doors, too. The older cop holds out the same photo the foster homes always use when I run away. Long dark hair, light-olive skin, and gray-green eyes that glare angrily into the camera. “Miss McCabe, we’re going to need you to come with us,” he says. About the Author: Miranda Asebedo was born and raised in rural Kansas with a love of fast cars, open skies, and books. She carried that love of books to college, where she got her B.A. and M.A. in English, with an emphasis in Creative Writing and Literature. A Seaton Fellowship recipient, her short fiction has appeared in Kansas Voices, Touchstone, and Midway Journal. Miranda still lives on the prairie today with her husband, two kids, and two majestic bulldogs named Princess Jellybean and Captain Jack Wobbles. If Miranda's not writing or reading, she's most likely convinced everyone to load up in the family muscle car and hit the road. Author Links: Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16987401.Miranda_Asebedo Website: https://www.mirandaasebedo.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/MirandaWriteNow Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mirandawritenow/ Giveaway:  Prize: Win a copy of A CONSTELLATION OF ROSES by Miranda Asebedo (INT) Starts: 5th november 2019 Ends: 19th November 2019 Photo Credit: Alexis Bestwick  Fan Art / Photo Credit: Elvishness a Rafflecopter giveaway Tour Schedule: https://fantasticflyingbookclub.blogspot.com/2019/09/tour-schedule-constellation-of-roses-by.html November 18th The Unofficial Addiction Book Fan Club - Welcome Post November 19th Bookish Looks - Guest Post Books and Blends - Review Book-Keeping - Review + Favourite Quotes The Reading Corner for All - Review Book Blog London - Review + Favourite Quotes November 20th Wishful Endings - Guest Post Here's to Happy Endings - Review + Favourite Quotes Belle's Archive - Review + Favourite Quotes We Live and Breathe Books - Review What's She Reading? - Review November 21st NovelKnight - Interview onemused - Review Dazzled by Books - Review + Favourite Quotes Avid Reader - Review Booked J - Review November 22nd A Book Addict's Bookshelves - Guest Post Confessions of a YA Reader - Review + Favourite Quotes For The Love of Fictional Worlds - Review Morgan Vega - Review + Favourite Quotes bewitchingwords - Review + Favourite Quotes November 23rd Book Rambler - Review Sometimes Leelynn Reads - Review + Favourite Quotes The Clever Reader - Review + Favourite Quotes To All The Books I've Read Before - Review + Playlist biblioxytocin - Review + Favourite Quotes November 24th L.M.Durand - Interview The Shelf Life Chronicles - Review The She Revelation Book Blog - Review + Favourite Quotes emily the book nerd - Review + Playlist The Heart of a Book Blogger - Review + Book Aesthetic Instagram Schedule: November 18th FFBC Tours TUABFC November 19th Bookish Looks Book-Keeping The Reading Corner for All Book Blog London November 20th Wishful Endings Here's to Happy Endings Belle's Archive November 21st NovelKnight onemused Avid Reader Booked J Dazzled by Books November 22nd Confessions of a YA Reader For The Love of Fictional Worlds Morgan Vega November 23rd Sometimes Leelynn Reads The Clever Reader biblioxytocin November 24th L.M.Durand  The She Revelation Book Blog emily the book nerd The Heart of a Book Blogger The Shelf Life Chronicles
http://www.dazzledbybooks.com/2019/11/aconstellationofrosesblogtour.html
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fy-bsk · 5 months
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[231027 K-Choreo] SEVENTEEN - God of Music at KBS Music Bank
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abhigunjal · 6 years
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Business Jet Market worth $33.8 Billion by 2020
Business Jet Market worth $33.8 Billion by 2020
According to the new market research report "Business Jet Market by Aircraft Type (Light Jet, Mid-size Jet, Large Jet), by Geography (North America, Asia-Pacific, Europe, the Middle East, Latin America, and Africa) - Global Forecasts, Trends & Analysis to 2014 - 2020", the global business jet market was valued at $20.9 billion in 2013 and is expected to reach $33.8 billion by the end of 2020, to grow at a CAGR of 6.86%.
Browse 93 market data tables and 59 figures spread through 129 pages and in-depth TOC on “Business Jet Market - Global Forecasts, Trends & Analysis to 2014 - 2020” 
https://www.marketsandmarkets.com/Market-Reports/business-jet-market-33698426.html
Early buyers will receive 10% customization on reports.
Request Sample Report for Detailed Information:
https://www.marketsandmarkets.com/pdfdownload.asp?id=33698426&utm_source=linkedin&utm_medium=97
This report provides a market analysis of the business jet market for the next five years. It provides an overview of the drivers, challenges, and restraints that impact the industry. It also discusses the industry, market, and technology trends that currently prevail in the business jet market.It tracks, analyzes, and lays out the market size of the major spenders in each region and analyses the types of business jet aircraft such as light jets, mid-sized jets, and large jets.It provides information of the leading competitors in the business jet market.
It also provides details on their financial positions, key products, their unique selling points, and key developments.This research report segments the market on the basis of aircraft type, region, country, forecasting revenues, market share, and analyzing trends in each of the sub-sectors.
The business jet market can qualitatively be segmented into two major categories-branded charters (which also include air taxis) and fractional ownership. The air charter market has shown significant growth since its inception, which was about five decades back. There were about 3,650 worldwide charter and air taxi fleet in 2013. The primary demand for chartered flights is due to consistent demand from North America and Europe, which constitutes 70% of the total demand. In the recent past, the strongest fleet growth in the charter market has been observed from APAC, Latin America, and Africa.
A competitive landscape with respect to the identification of key players and their market share has also been provided in the report. The strategic profiling of key players of the business jet market, along with a comprehensive analysis of their recent developments, investments, and core competencies in each segment have been identified. Key players profiled in the report are Bombardier Inc. (Canada), Gulfstream Aerospace Corporation (U.S.), Cessna Aircraft Company (U.S.), Dassault Aviation S.A. (France), and Embraer S.A. (Brazil).
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RED FRIDAYS - 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles Association (4CMRA) and The Red Friday Ladies announce partnership for RED “Remember Everyone Deployed” Friday 1918-2018 Vimy
When Red (Remember Everyone Deployed) Fridays was started by Karen Kelly and
Lisa Miller, two military wives with husbands deployed in Afghanistan, in 2006 it was a grass roots success that culminated in a 20,000 person, “support our troops rally” on parliament hill. They wanted to give Canadians the opportunity to show their gratitude to our past and present heroes, by wearing RED on Fridays. (RED= Remember
Everyone Deployed) It was a real grass roots movement that at its high point resulted in a demonstration of 20,000 Canadians on Parliament Hill in support of our troops in
2006.
The 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles Association is proud to now have these two talented ladies working side by side with us to reinvigorate and take Red Fridays across the country.  The updated Red Friday includes First Responders (police, fire and ambulance), historically many first responders have served in the military (we had 62 firefighters in the 4th CMR during WW1), both the military and first responders are deployed (either at home or overseas). The 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles Association, a federally registered not for profit, and Mounted Rifles Management Limited, working together are committed to providing the framework for Red Friday 1918-2018 to be a huge success.
Our goal is honour and commemorate Canada’s 118,000 war dead while supporting the
living.
Stand with us!
“Our veterans are the ones who have had, and continue to ‘have our backs’. They are
the ones who help keep peace in the world, and risk their lives when need be. Facts:
• First Responders and the Military have a common heritage that reaches back to WW1 when 62 firefighters served in the 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles.
• First Responders are deployed when on patrol, answering a call or treating an accident victim in a similar manner as the Military is deployed at home and overseas.
• First Responders and the Military set the example of courage, selflessness and civic duty while their members suffer from many of the same health issues from physical and mental injuries, such as PTSD. The Plan: The 4 CMRA has developed a national 3-year program commemorating Red Friday through:
•  1918 – 2018 -  The 100th Anniversary of the Ceasefire in WW1
• 1939 – 2019 The 80th Anniversary of the start of WW2
• 1945 – 2020 The 75th Anniversary of the end of WW2
• The 4 CMRA commemorates our fallen through:
The Use of our 2 Replica 1917 Douglas Motorcycles, with drivers in Uniform for parade and national events
Living history displays such as the Mayors Vimy Concert in Markham in April, the Vimy Event in June 2017 at the Royal Canadian Legion Branch 551 in Waterdown Ontario, The Cambridge Canada Day Parade, the Warriors Day Parade at the CNE, The September competition shoot at the Ajax Rod and Gun Club,  The Canada 150 Event with the City of Markham, The Invictus Concert at Roy Thompson Hall in September and the forthcoming Remembrance Day Parade and Events in Markham with the City and the Markham District Veterans Association,
In addition we offer downloadable educational materials available to schools across Canada as part of a Vimy educational program promoted by the Royal Canadian Legion Ontario Command.
The 4th CMRA has developed fund raising capabilities that support military charities, Cadets, Veterans and civic organizations throughout Canada, and will make the 3- year program financially self sufficient. We will achieve financial self sufficiency through the licensing of our brands, sales of wearable merchandise and limited- edition prints.
The 4 CMRA is a federally registered not-for-profit.
Robert A. McTaggart, BA, Founder and Chairman of the Board of the 4th Canadian
Mounted Rifles Association (4CMRA)
A former cadet and then officer in the Governor Generals Horse Guards (GGHG), he founded the 4CMRA in honor of his Great Uncle, Fredrick McTaggart, a Canadian soldier in the 4CMR who fell at the battle of Vimy Ridge on April 9th, 1917. The McTaggart family has over 100 years of service in the GGHG, which perpetuates the
4CMR. He stated: "A few years ago, I was in France, at Vimy Ridge, where my Great Uncle Frederick McTaggart fought for Canada and was killed. Visiting his grave, I realized I must do something to further honor his bravery and those soldiers with whom he fought to help shape Canada into the envy of so many around the world."
ABOUT RED FRIDAYS – Red Fridays was founded by Karen Kelly and Lisa Miller – The Red Friday Ladies Lisa Miller and Karen Boire. Dubbed “the Red Friday Ladies”, Lisa and Karen spearheaded a movement in support of Canada’s dedicated men and women in uniform by encouraging Canadians to wear red on Fridays – a simple expression of respect and appreciation.
What began as a posting on the Internet, evolved into a show of support for members of the Canadian Forces and their families. After crafting an e-mail and sharing it with friends and media, Lisa and Karen’s initiative took off.
Their first Red Friday Rally in 2006 drew thousands of proud supporters clad in red to Parliament Hill. The pair has since hosted, attended and inspired countless events throughout the country and continue to spread the word about the importance of Red Fridays.
Over the years, the two women have been well-recognized for their work. Most notably, they have received a Canadian Forces Medallion for Distinguished Service in 2007 and have been named Chamber Citizen of the Year 2008 by the Upper Ottawa Valley Chamber of Commerce.
ABOUT 4CMRA – The Fourth Canadian Mounted Rifles Association is named after
one of the most famous and highly decorated units in WW1, the 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles, perpetuates their memory. It is the Mission of the 4CMRA to commemorate the deeds of the Canadian, and American, citizen armies from WW1. The 4CMRA provides a present-day voice by honoring those citizen armies through living history, education, memorials, community participation, and promoting understanding of Canadian, and American, military history.
It is through what they did a hundred years ago from where we draw our inspiration, strength, and commitment to honor both them and those Canadians who stand for these values today.
For media inquiries, interviews, or other information: Contact:
RA (Bob) McTaggart
Chairman/Founder/Veteran
4th Canadian Mounted Rifles Association
416 371 8518
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