HOW DO YOU CLEAN IVORY. YOU CLEAN IVORY


How Do You Clean Ivory. Amos Cleaning Products.



How Do You Clean Ivory





how do you clean ivory






    how do
  • "Willow's Song" is a ballad by American composer Paul Giovanni for the 1973 film The Wicker Man. It is adapted from a poem by George Peele, part of his play The Old Wives' Tale (printed 1595).

  • (How does) PowerGUARD™ Power Conditioning work?

  • (How does) a better "Vocabulary" help me?





    clean
  • make clean by removing dirt, filth, or unwanted substances from; "Clean the stove!"; "The dentist cleaned my teeth"

  • clean and jerk: a weightlift in which the barbell is lifted to shoulder height and then jerked overhead

  • Remove the innards of (fish or poultry) prior to cooking

  • free from dirt or impurities; or having clean habits; "children with clean shining faces"; "clean white shirts"; "clean dishes"; "a spotlessly clean house"; "cats are clean animals"

  • Make (something or someone) free of dirt, marks, or mess, esp. by washing, wiping, or brushing





    ivory
  • bone: a shade of white the color of bleached bones

  • Ivory is formed from dentine and constitutes the bulk of the teeth and tusks of animals such as the elephant, hippopotamus, walrus, mammoth and narwhal.

  • a hard smooth ivory colored dentine that makes up most of the tusks of elephants and walruses

  • A hard creamy-white substance composing the main part of the tusks of an elephant, walrus, or narwhal, often (esp. formerly) used to make ornaments and other articles

  • An object made of ivory

  • The keys of a piano











how do you clean ivory - Yamaha 20-Series




Yamaha 20-Series 3-Piece C-Soprano Recorder (Baroque-English Fingering, Ivory)


Yamaha 20-Series 3-Piece C-Soprano Recorder (Baroque-English Fingering, Ivory)



Players of all levels will enjoy the precise, uniform intonation of the 20 series recorders. This recorder, made of ABS resin, combine outstanding Yamaha quality with durability for the ultimate in a lightweight recorder. Ease of play makes the 20 series the perfect place to start. The Baroque-English fingering uses the slightly harder "forked" fingering for F, but it leads to a wider choice of music since most recorder music is written for the Baroque-English fingering. A three-piece recorder has several advantages: some people find three-piece recorders easier to clean; small adjustments for ease of fingering or intonation can be made to the foot joint; and if you have a group of children who like to play their recorders when they should be listening, you can have them take off the head joint to practice fingerings without making any noise.










86% (5)





True Story: The Crocheted tablecloth.




True Story: The Crocheted tablecloth.





The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve. They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc, and on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished.

On December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.
On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colour, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.

By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area. Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. "Pastor," she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?" The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria.

The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the Tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. He was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again. The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home that was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.

What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return. One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighbourhood continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving.
The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike. He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between.

The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.

True Story that was submitted by Pastor Rob Reid, and who says that God does not work in mysterious ways.
Picture taken by Charles Bray at Notre dame-du-port in Quebec.























i bought one. devils in waiting, by mary motley. an excerpt:


The Governor-General, like Monsieur Blum, was an ardent believer in African Evolution. He maintained that natives could be taught anything, given proper training and opportunities. His favourite example was the engine-driver of the special train. Ernest had been H.E.'s discovery when he was Governor of the Ivory Coast. As the boy was an able mechanic he had been sent to France under a Government education scheme, and spent several years in Paris fulfilling his ambition of becoming an engine-driver. Now, fully trained and qualified, he was the living embodiment of the Blum-Reste theory.

Ernest, when not in overalls, was always impeccably dressed, complete with topee and sun-glasses. He professed Christianity and held his unevolved brethren in deep contempt. He spoke a very 'refeened' French, always using the longest words and the most elaborate phrases. Whenever Black Progress was discussed in Government circles Ernest was cited as conclusive evidence.

H.E. was understandably shocked one day when it was brought to his notice that this paragon of civilization had only the night before killed and partly eaten his little brother. At first Reste refused to listen to the charges, but the evidence was overwhelming. H.E., according to usual practice, sent a memo to Guy, passing Ernest over to him for necessary action.

The offender was sent to the Cabinet Militaire for questioning. Ernest came clean. It was the usual story. Ernest was terribly sorry for what had happened, but he could not have done otherwise. It was the anniversary of his father's death, and the ghost of the deceased would haunt him mercilessly unless propitiated by human blood. Also it was not his brother, only his half-brother.

Guy was broadminded, and inclined to take a lenient view of heathen practices when he considered the circumstances warranted it. If you genuinely believed that a malevolent spirit would curse you from the grave, and if you honestly felt it to be your filial duty to appease it by sacrifice, thereby ensuring peace of mind and soul . . . well, it was a time-honoured custom anyway. It was not so very far back in the history of humanity that our own ancestors had substituted first animals and then flowers in place of human offerings. Ernest, nearer the truth than he knew, said that he had seen the cemetery of Pere Lachaise on le Jour des Morts when relatives of the dead placed flowers on their graves: "Cela presente une grande similarite avec le cas actuel."

Guy assured him that it presented no similarity whatsoever, and refused to be drawn into a theological discussion, adding that as Ernest was a Christian he should have paid for a Requiem Mass to be said for his father's soul. Ernest demurred. His father had not been baptized. How could a Christian ritual appease a pagan spirit? Guy evaded the question. He admonished Ernest with great severity, saying that he would let him off this time as he was a first offender, but warning him that if it ever happened again no mercy would be shown. A very repentant Ernest swore by every saint in the calendar that such a thing was unthinkable.

Alas for the frailty of human nature! Less than a week later little half-sister went the way of her brother. This time there was no extenuating circumstance. With disarming candour Ernest pleaded guilty to what he described as a peche de gourmandise. Little half-brother had been so succulent that he had been unable to resist the temptation of a second helping.

Guy took a firm view. This must stop. Enough was as good as a feast. Religion was one thing, gluttony another. Ernest was sent to prison to serve an indefinite sentence, while Guy, to H.E.'s dismay, wrote to the Colonial Office asking for a ruling as to what action should be taken when engine-drivers eat their relations. Paris never replied to the note, probably dismissing it as a joke in poor taste.

- mary motley, "devils in waiting" (p. 96-98)









how do you clean ivory







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