Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Age Of Empires Maps Xml
PARTNERS: HOW ARE? NEW YEAR, OLD EARLY . In relation to the payment of wages the information we have is that we would be doing just the first year's payment in late March. So April. Reason: we say that there were changes in human resources and other measures of force.
Last year we agreed to continue all the workshops with teachers by 2010. Apparently this was true we have no information to the contrary.
But the decree of the faculty have not yet signed. Once you sign lombardi "next week" goes to the signing of macri and then begins to pay administrative circuit
point with us is we went back to claim the payment of wages and that everything is over. last year we convened in November a meeting to press for no outstanding agreements completed and continuity for next year with better working conditions. We were very few people who attended 5. Today again is to close a wage increase for teachers over 20% in 2010. Nine were excluded. We always arrive late and has to do with the lack of continuity in the claims.
recovered in 2008 from the workshops to go out and fight in all places, this gave us a strength that allowed us to achieve some improvements in wages and reach agreements that although have not been complied with fully signed and if not completed to implement had to do with an abandonment of the claim.
Last year we agreed to continue all the workshops with teachers by 2010. But the decree does not meet the teaching staff has not yet signed. Once you sign lombardi "next week" goes to the firm BC macri and administrative circuit begins to pay. Repeat as General Coordinator said. Guillermo González Heredia would be charging about 20 March.
For all this we call for:
GENERAL ASSEMBLY WORKERS
FOR THURSDAY, MARCH 4
A 18:00 HS
IN CULTURAL CENTER Arlt
(Avellaneda and ARTIGAS)
Agenda:
- Payment of wages.
- Compliance with agreements reached in 2009 (contests and status).
- Completion of office of the Internal Board ATE, a new election of officers, armed with lists and setting goals for 2010.
make an effort to disseminate this information and to convene the assembly.
greetings
contained by
Internal Board
ATE-CTA
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Mysore Mallige Family Members
WAY IN THIS SILENCE OF THOUGHTS ON AN OASIS
When I went in search of the Ark of the Covenant to Ethiopia, following what is written in the Kebra Negast: "The Jewish immigrants who arrived in Ethiopia were the firstborn of the elders of Israel in the retinue of Menelik, accompanying the sacred Ark of the Covenant, who had stolen the Temple, a priest of the Falasha in Tana Kirkos sacred site, he said: You should know that we have sprouted plants so we can all find where our roots, dead free us.
In search of desires, our hearts flying free. I remember the look, wrapped in red sari passion, you shine in the darkness of oblivion.
Betel leaves I'm chewing, gift of the Sultan of this city called Zafar, also perfume the breath, producing joy, I integrated directly into the divine life. I think it's a crime to burn my adventurous life.
The silence of this oasis, the stillness of the second, the coconut trees that shade on the edge of the desert, the traces of sin, the rust of years, the idea of \u200b\u200breturning tight, the heat of bodies in the landfill oblivion, the caress of the kisses, the origin of the voices that repeat, everything is Uxa, tenderness naked dead tears, full moon one minute happy.
newcomer in a vessel to port, from India, have traveled your scrolls, I have been supplied by the kirani, which carries the logbook.
As I read your signs, I imagine your dress adorned with "speculae" that credit as a pilgrim and certify your way through those magical places where the Virgin Mary, relics, and saints. Special Safeconduct
King of Aragon, in particular of the Monastery of San Juan de la Peña, San Vicente de Roda, Pueyo Barbastro Torreciudad Angels of Huesca.
In almost all hospitals in the Upper Aragon, military orders, religious or monastic, every pilgrim may be in them, so ordained by King James I, for one to three days without payment received showing speculae in its path.
not get carried away by negative emotions, where the sun rises, rises on my travel fantasies, poems that accompany me. Now the Muses are silent. My sincere fears literary trick. My forest, the sanctuary of a time of impossible dreams, welcome among their branches, green for hope. Or stories or poems, or poetic prose, nothing. Alexandria Rose just soothes my dry, uninspired. When the incense of the resurrection? Where the dog Argo to recognize my hidden truth?
when the sea gulls dark, silent laugh over the cliffs, and on my lips, a memory. In the distance is the image on the banks of the Nile that will grab free sludge. The music of these palms, numbing waves of foam, trying to erase the real name of the Scribe, Dreamcatcher, written on the beach, but not enough. Music and waves, which of them will cross the ocean to unravel the secret. Someone will try to read the name in vain. On the sand, writing strokes are invisible steps, capricious. The sea, beach, blue, waves, left unassisted hope. Uxa
in some way free from some valley, perhaps in winter, find a story ... and I will stay. My love is now, the liberator of the past. There, where they live flower touches as beats will stay within the limits of its petals. And I'll be trapped in the light of the Old Moon. Belit-SERI
When I went in search of the Ark of the Covenant to Ethiopia, following what is written in the Kebra Negast: "The Jewish immigrants who arrived in Ethiopia were the firstborn of the elders of Israel in the retinue of Menelik, accompanying the sacred Ark of the Covenant, who had stolen the Temple, a priest of the Falasha in Tana Kirkos sacred site, he said: You should know that we have sprouted plants so we can all find where our roots, dead free us.
In search of desires, our hearts flying free. I remember the look, wrapped in red sari passion, you shine in the darkness of oblivion.
Betel leaves I'm chewing, gift of the Sultan of this city called Zafar, also perfume the breath, producing joy, I integrated directly into the divine life. I think it's a crime to burn my adventurous life.
The silence of this oasis, the stillness of the second, the coconut trees that shade on the edge of the desert, the traces of sin, the rust of years, the idea of \u200b\u200breturning tight, the heat of bodies in the landfill oblivion, the caress of the kisses, the origin of the voices that repeat, everything is Uxa, tenderness naked dead tears, full moon one minute happy.
newcomer in a vessel to port, from India, have traveled your scrolls, I have been supplied by the kirani, which carries the logbook.
As I read your signs, I imagine your dress adorned with "speculae" that credit as a pilgrim and certify your way through those magical places where the Virgin Mary, relics, and saints. Special Safeconduct
King of Aragon, in particular of the Monastery of San Juan de la Peña, San Vicente de Roda, Pueyo Barbastro Torreciudad Angels of Huesca.
In almost all hospitals in the Upper Aragon, military orders, religious or monastic, every pilgrim may be in them, so ordained by King James I, for one to three days without payment received showing speculae in its path.
not get carried away by negative emotions, where the sun rises, rises on my travel fantasies, poems that accompany me. Now the Muses are silent. My sincere fears literary trick. My forest, the sanctuary of a time of impossible dreams, welcome among their branches, green for hope. Or stories or poems, or poetic prose, nothing. Alexandria Rose just soothes my dry, uninspired. When the incense of the resurrection? Where the dog Argo to recognize my hidden truth?
when the sea gulls dark, silent laugh over the cliffs, and on my lips, a memory. In the distance is the image on the banks of the Nile that will grab free sludge. The music of these palms, numbing waves of foam, trying to erase the real name of the Scribe, Dreamcatcher, written on the beach, but not enough. Music and waves, which of them will cross the ocean to unravel the secret. Someone will try to read the name in vain. On the sand, writing strokes are invisible steps, capricious. The sea, beach, blue, waves, left unassisted hope. Uxa
in some way free from some valley, perhaps in winter, find a story ... and I will stay. My love is now, the liberator of the past. There, where they live flower touches as beats will stay within the limits of its petals. And I'll be trapped in the light of the Old Moon. Belit-SERI
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