Gardiner fred (27 risultati)

PAP. Condizione: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000.

PAP. Condizione: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000.

PAP. Condizione: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000.

PAP. Condizione: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000.

Taschenbuch. Condizione: Neu. Neuware - It was July of 1985 when the The Canadian Corporation for Public Broadcasting, as a final act of subversion by the soon to be retired, mostly male, old guard, decided to put women in charge of the whole organisation. The Head of Programming was given his golden handshake and promptly replaced by Sheila Bittewart, an up-until-then totally inexperienced graduate from the Ryerson School of Journalism, later to be re-envisioned as the Social Justice School of Resentment. Her first act was to purchase a Venti Latte (she had always wanted to order a Venti Latte but had never felt empowered enough) at Starbucks and settled into the somewhat tedious task of replacing all the aging commies with shiny bright young women from the aforementioned incubator of social unrest. Not surprisingly, things went south in a hurry. The title of the morning show was changed from Good Morning Canada to Anybody With A Grievance. No kidding. That's what they actually called it. Breast cancer survivors and their heroic struggles became the cause-de-jour. Gay men were encouraged to go into great detail about the pain they felt at not being able to tell their parents about their sexual preferences. Immigrant women were allotted entire hours to tell the nation about their journeys from male-dominated chattel to Assistant Manager at the Lethbridge Credit Union. Canadian folk music was replaced with World Music (i.e. watery drivel that only a vegan could love). Food recipes were still acceptable as long as the food in question was esoteric and the recipes had originated in the third world hundreds of years before the invention of electricity. Kale and arugula became mandatory bases for salads, and the health-giving benefits of grains that no self-respecting farmer would feed his cattle were touted as miraculous. Native angst was featured regularly and the unbearable pain of women re-living their first periods became a suitable background to consume one's cornflakes by. Added to this mix were writers, poets and painters no-one had ever heard of, female inventors and people with diseases of every variety, abused cats and just generally, as the show's title stated, anybody with a grievance.…

Hardcover. Condizione: Good. No Jacket. Kitchen, Fred. Jesse and his friends / illustrations by Gerald Gardiner. London: J. M. Dent and Sons Ltd., 1953 reprint. Literature of Yesterday and Today. Hardback, Good, no dustjacket. Green cloth, sunned to spine with light shelfwear to edges, in protective transparent wrap. Silver lettering to front and spine. Binding strong. Prize inscription to ffep. 222pp., b/w illustrations. Contents clean and bright. (William) Frederick Kitchen (28 December 1890 - 16 September 1969) was an English farm labourer and writer. His best known work is Brother to the Ox (1939). RightWayUp Books aims to provide accurate and detailed descriptions. All images are of the actual book for sale - no stock images are ever used. Thank you for looking at this listing. Gerald Gardiner (illustratore).…

Paperback. Condizione: new. Paperback. Author's Preface. November, 2013 Edition: Some years ago, never mind exactly how many, I set myself a course in life. Well, I didn't set it exactly so much as it was handed to me in the library of Merivale High School at the end of a rather wonderfully disastrous academic year. I had failed, or was about to fail, every single subject except English and Theatre Arts and had no idea how I was going to deal with the ignominy of returning the following year to retake a bunch of courses I had no interest in in the first place. I guess I didn't want to be prepared for life in the real world and thought that the boys in the non-academic section of the school were having more fun and learning far more interesting and worthwhile things than how to dissect yet another poor frog preserved in a jar of formaldehyde. It's not that I couldn't dissect a frog if I had to. I just didn't want to. Except, of course, I was paired with a rather cute girl who did want to but thought the whole thing was gross, so I sort of guided her through it and agreed that it was sick but necessary if she wanted to get a good mark in the course. She did. I didn't. C'est la vie. In any case, I wandered into the library, close to the end of term and drifted towards the literature section with the vague notion that if English was the only subject I had any real interest in, perhaps I should start reading more significant books. You see, there was this one teacher, my English teacher, whose name I have forgotten. I could make up a name for him, I suppose, but I'd rather not because, with the exception of my theatre arts teacher, Mr. Watson, he was the only teacher that year who took any real interest in my academic progress. But there was a reason for that. It was because I was the only person in his class who took any real interest in Paradise Lost, or had even the vaguest notion what darkness visible meant. I think I said something like, Milton is just describing what it feels like to be an archangel one minute and tossed out of heaven the next for failing to recognize God's authority. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability.…

Paperback. Condizione: new. Paperback. My name is Frank Grayling. I live in this small apartment at the western end of the fourth largest city in North America. Not a terribly important detail given the nature of the facts I am about to set down here. But should this document fall into the wrong hands before I kick off, it might turn out to be of some significance. And I might as well get it out in the open right off the bat. I, dear future reader, am a CSIS operant and have been for several years now. I live in this crummy little pad, right next to one of the largest parks in Toronto, not because I actually want to, but because I am paid to live in it. Seriously, who the hell would live in a run-down dump like this if they didn't have to? Nobody. That's who. I'm not nobody but I'm as close as you can get to being invisible without actually completely disappearing. Right off the face of the planet, I mean. And this apartment? It's a dump. A real dive. Not as much of a dump as some of the joints I've lived in. And it's not actually as bad as I'm making it out to be. I've lived in some pretty crummy places over the years, spying on one group of miscreants or another. And compared to those places, this apartment is sort of like paradise. Sort of. It has hot and cold running water and that's more than can be said for a lot places. Istanbul? That was a real dead end, go nowhere, nothing much happening kind of scene. Compared to that, living in this little apartment is paradise. But by North America standards, it's a dump and that's all there is to it. I'm not really supposed to tell anyone anything about myself, the nature of what I do being so secretive and all, but I've got to tell somebody about what's been happening or I'll go bat-shit crazy. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability.…

Condizione: New. Print on Demand.

Condizione: New. Print on Demand.

Softcover. Condizione: Very Good. First edition. Self-wrappers. A trifle eroded at the top of the thin spine, else very good or better.

Taschenbuch. Condizione: Neu. Neuware.

Taschenbuch. Condizione: Neu. Neuware - I suppose I should start by explaining how I got into the saviour business to begin with. It may or may not have had something to do with mother telling me at an early age not to be like my father, and not to be like other men either for that matter, but it really started because of a short, dark-haired girl that I fell in love with in grade one Wendy Wiffen. She was the smartest girl in Meadowlands Public School, and also the cutest, but I would never have even known of her existence if it hadn't been for the school's secretary accidentally booking the gymnasium for two different classes at the same time. Our two teachers agreed to share the large room and lined us up at opposite ends of it for some kind of game I don't remember. What I do remember, quite vividly, is Wendy standing in the middle of the opposite row of children, wearing a white linen dress with navy blue trim around the collar and hem. It was love at first site and that afternoon, I waited for her outside the back door of the school to follow her home and we played kiss-tag in the backyard of her house with her twin sister Laura.From that moment onward, I thought of Wendy as my girlfriend, and even though I was never brave enough to broach the subject, I'm sure she knew how I felt about her. What I'm sure she didn't know about was that I would day-dream about her in class anytime my teacher started going on and on about something of absolutely no interest to anyone but herself. At those moments, I would gaze out the window and picture Wendy tied to a palm tree on a desert island somewhere in the South Pacific Ocean, having been taken captive by pirates. It was up to me, of course, to come to her rescue and set her free. And that is how I first got into the saviour business.…

Paperback. Condizione: new. Paperback. After forty years in Toronto, my life had devolved into an endless round of watching movies and YouTube videos on my computer while simultaneously chatting with women on Facebook Messenger. It was time for a change and thanks to the fact that I was sixty-five-years old, I had the wherewithal to make one. The Canadian government had started paying me my Old Age Security and Guaranteed Income Supplement since January and it was then March. However, my once comfortable apartment had turned into a hellhole thanks to the arrival of bed bugs. The housing cooperative that I lived in had hired an exterminator who thought he could get rid of them with the natural pesticide he put in every nook and cranny, to absolutely no avail. The walls of my living-room were spotted with blood, my blood, and the universe was speaking to me. Time to get out of Dodge, Sonny boy. I had to agree, but the question was, to where? For months, I had been watching YouTube videos about people buying land and building their own cabins on woodlots. This appealed to me enormously but seemed like an impossibility until one day I idly googled land for sale, and landed on a page with lots for sale in Cape Breton, Nova Scotiawolterland.com. I saw several lots that I liked the looks of, but they were all out of my price range until I read the fine print. The seller of the lot that I liked the most was willing to provide financing, meaning that after making a minimum deposit of roughly thirteen-hundred dollars, I would pay less than three-hundred per month. That, I could certainly afford, but I dithered for another month before taking action. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability.…

Paperback. Condizione: new. Paperback. I suppose I should start by explaining how I got into the saviour business to begin with. It may or may not have had something to do with mother telling me at an early age not to be like my father, and not to be like other men either for that matter, but it really started because of a short, dark-haired girl that I fell in love with in grade one Wendy Wiffen. She was the smartest girl in Meadowlands Public School, and also the cutest, but I would never have even known of her existence if it hadn't been for the school's secretary accidentally booking the gymnasium for two different classes at the same time. Our two teachers agreed to share the large room and lined us up at opposite ends of it for some kind of game I don't remember. What I do remember, quite vividly, is Wendy standing in the middle of the opposite row of children, wearing a white linen dress with navy blue trim around the collar and hem. It was love at first site and that afternoon, I waited for her outside the back door of the school to follow her home and we played kiss-tag in the backyard of her house with her twin sister Laura.From that moment onward, I thought of Wendy as my girlfriend, and even though I was never brave enough to broach the subject, I'm sure she knew how I felt about her. What I'm sure she didn't know about was that I would day-dream about her in class anytime my teacher started going on and on about something of absolutely no interest to anyone but herself. At those moments, I would gaze out the window and picture Wendy tied to a palm tree on a desert island somewhere in the South Pacific Ocean, having been taken captive by pirates. It was up to me, of course, to come to her rescue and set her free. And that is how I first got into the saviour business. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability.…

Condizione: New. Print on Demand.

Condizione: New. Print on Demand.

Hardcover. Condizione: As New. no jacket. copy # 611 of 950 limited edition. Hardcover, 7 x 9 1/4", #611 of 950, red cloth with gilt lettering on covers, many b/w illustrations throughout, Part I: The Ruffed Grouse - its background, basic biology and economic importance, Part II: The Factors that Affect Abundance, Part III: Managing the Grouse Crop, & Part IV: Appendix. 4 paintings by Fred Everett, and 127 sketches by Clayton Seagears and Fred Everett (illustratore).…

Hardcover. Condizione: Fair. Aus einer Bibliothek ausgesondert/ Stempel; Leichte Gebrauchsspuren. De Heij, Fred (illustratore).

Soft cover. Condizione: Good +. No Jacket. 1st Edition. 35pp. The three poems are: Seven Odes by Fred Marnau (English translation of this poems is by Ernst Sigler); From the Gates of Silence by Wrey Gardiner; and Acrobats in a Red Spotlight by Nicholas Moore. Clean inside pages with no inscriptions. Unclipped paper wraps (2s 6d). Red and black lettering on brown covers. Wear to spine - with some loss to top and tail of spine. Split binding of front cover. Now all protected in a clear archival envelope. …

Soft cover. Condizione: Very Good. 1st Edition. 35 pages, very good condition in paper covers, lower left corner of covers and pages creased, covers slightly dust marked, bottom of spine slightly rubbed.

Softcover. Condizione: Near Fine. First edition. Self-wrappers. Offsetting to the last leaf from a clipping, else fine. A very nice copy of this ephemeral publication.

Paperback 8 x 5.25 inches. In illustrated glossy card covers. In very good condition. Some rubbing along edges. Signed by author on title page. Else a clean and tight copy. 72pp with b&w maps.

Paperback. Condizione: new. Paperback. Author's Preface. November, 2013 Edition: Some years ago, never mind exactly how many, I set myself a course in life. Well, I didn't set it exactly so much as it was handed to me in the library of Merivale High School at the end of a rather wonderfully disastrous academic year. I had failed, or was about to fail, every single subject except English and Theatre Arts and had no idea how I was going to deal with the ignominy of returning the following year to retake a bunch of courses I had no interest in in the first place. I guess I didn't want to be prepared for life in the real world and thought that the boys in the non-academic section of the school were having more fun and learning far more interesting and worthwhile things than how to dissect yet another poor frog preserved in a jar of formaldehyde. It's not that I couldn't dissect a frog if I had to. I just didn't want to. Except, of course, I was paired with a rather cute girl who did want to but thought the whole thing was gross, so I sort of guided her through it and agreed that it was sick but necessary if she wanted to get a good mark in the course. She did. I didn't. C'est la vie. In any case, I wandered into the library, close to the end of term and drifted towards the literature section with the vague notion that if English was the only subject I had any real interest in, perhaps I should start reading more significant books. You see, there was this one teacher, my English teacher, whose name I have forgotten. I could make up a name for him, I suppose, but I'd rather not because, with the exception of my theatre arts teacher, Mr. Watson, he was the only teacher that year who took any real interest in my academic progress. But there was a reason for that. It was because I was the only person in his class who took any real interest in Paradise Lost, or had even the vaguest notion what darkness visible meant. I think I said something like, Milton is just describing what it feels like to be an archangel one minute and tossed out of heaven the next for failing to recognize God's authority. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability.…

Paperback. Condizione: new. Paperback. My name is Frank Grayling. I live in this small apartment at the western end of the fourth largest city in North America. Not a terribly important detail given the nature of the facts I am about to set down here. But should this document fall into the wrong hands before I kick off, it might turn out to be of some significance. And I might as well get it out in the open right off the bat. I, dear future reader, am a CSIS operant and have been for several years now. I live in this crummy little pad, right next to one of the largest parks in Toronto, not because I actually want to, but because I am paid to live in it. Seriously, who the hell would live in a run-down dump like this if they didn't have to? Nobody. That's who. I'm not nobody but I'm as close as you can get to being invisible without actually completely disappearing. Right off the face of the planet, I mean. And this apartment? It's a dump. A real dive. Not as much of a dump as some of the joints I've lived in. And it's not actually as bad as I'm making it out to be. I've lived in some pretty crummy places over the years, spying on one group of miscreants or another. And compared to those places, this apartment is sort of like paradise. Sort of. It has hot and cold running water and that's more than can be said for a lot places. Istanbul? That was a real dead end, go nowhere, nothing much happening kind of scene. Compared to that, living in this little apartment is paradise. But by North America standards, it's a dump and that's all there is to it. I'm not really supposed to tell anyone anything about myself, the nature of what I do being so secretive and all, but I've got to tell somebody about what's been happening or I'll go bat-shit crazy. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability.…

Paperback. Condizione: new. Paperback. After forty years in Toronto, my life had devolved into an endless round of watching movies and YouTube videos on my computer while simultaneously chatting with women on Facebook Messenger. It was time for a change and thanks to the fact that I was sixty-five-years old, I had the wherewithal to make one. The Canadian government had started paying me my Old Age Security and Guaranteed Income Supplement since January and it was then March. However, my once comfortable apartment had turned into a hellhole thanks to the arrival of bed bugs. The housing cooperative that I lived in had hired an exterminator who thought he could get rid of them with the natural pesticide he put in every nook and cranny, to absolutely no avail. The walls of my living-room were spotted with blood, my blood, and the universe was speaking to me. Time to get out of Dodge, Sonny boy. I had to agree, but the question was, to where? For months, I had been watching YouTube videos about people buying land and building their own cabins on woodlots. This appealed to me enormously but seemed like an impossibility until one day I idly googled land for sale, and landed on a page with lots for sale in Cape Breton, Nova Scotiawolterland.com. I saw several lots that I liked the looks of, but they were all out of my price range until I read the fine print. The seller of the lot that I liked the most was willing to provide financing, meaning that after making a minimum deposit of roughly thirteen-hundred dollars, I would pay less than three-hundred per month. That, I could certainly afford, but I dithered for another month before taking action. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability.…

Paperback. Condizione: new. Paperback. I suppose I should start by explaining how I got into the saviour business to begin with. It may or may not have had something to do with mother telling me at an early age not to be like my father, and not to be like other men either for that matter, but it really started because of a short, dark-haired girl that I fell in love with in grade one Wendy Wiffen. She was the smartest girl in Meadowlands Public School, and also the cutest, but I would never have even known of her existence if it hadn't been for the school's secretary accidentally booking the gymnasium for two different classes at the same time. Our two teachers agreed to share the large room and lined us up at opposite ends of it for some kind of game I don't remember. What I do remember, quite vividly, is Wendy standing in the middle of the opposite row of children, wearing a white linen dress with navy blue trim around the collar and hem. It was love at first site and that afternoon, I waited for her outside the back door of the school to follow her home and we played kiss-tag in the backyard of her house with her twin sister Laura.From that moment onward, I thought of Wendy as my girlfriend, and even though I was never brave enough to broach the subject, I'm sure she knew how I felt about her. What I'm sure she didn't know about was that I would day-dream about her in class anytime my teacher started going on and on about something of absolutely no interest to anyone but herself. At those moments, I would gaze out the window and picture Wendy tied to a palm tree on a desert island somewhere in the South Pacific Ocean, having been taken captive by pirates. It was up to me, of course, to come to her rescue and set her free. And that is how I first got into the saviour business. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability.…