Ford Books

This book blends impeccable research with beautiful art and tasteful design for the most innovative and modern of science textbooks. Enjoyable for pleasure reading, even for those with little or no science background. Highly recommended.

As there's very few books on ford capri to begin with then this book has enough in it to make it worthwhile.There's plenty of colour photos and several b*w photos too.The text is interesting and its good value.
For a book of its size its a good book.

it's exelen

A must read! The Fellowship is a well-written action/adventure thriller that grips you at the very beginning and leaves you completely exhausted by the stunning conclusion. This spectacular story leads you through of myriad of plot twists, character analyses, scientific studies and detailed worldly travel recounts. A true masterpiece for this first-time novelist. My hat's off for Mr. Casimir!

Hoff's skill as a photographer is shown plainly throughout this book. He was known for using very little film, which increases an objective appreciation of his skill; he understood boxing and could anticipate moments of significance and arrange them to create technically superb photographs, without making dozens of pictures. The boxers depicted in this volume are now historical figures, but so are these photographers, of which Hoff is perhaps the best example. Live television coverage has changed the nature of boxing photography irrecoverably since the days when Hoff was photographing the sport. This volume is important as a historical document, then, from two angles - firstly as a record of what many perceive as the golden age of boxing, but also as an archive of amazing photography skills which are now impossible for photographers to learn, let alone master. A must for fans of both serious photography and boxing. J B-W

As the wife of a firefighter I read this book with love and affection, as it helped me understand how to help my husband and his stress dangers. I can now deal with his stress (and mine) in an informed way, which is more effective than blindly trying home remedies. This will help families use stress reducers in dealing with the special people in their lives. I think this is the most useful book you can buy in the area of firefighting. Even more than promotional study aids for promotion.

Davies continues his excellence in scholarship and fresh perspective on the interaction of Norman/"English" influences on the existing cultures of the British Isles during the immediate two centuries following the invasion. It elegantly reflects that this process of "integration" of Wales, Ireland and Scotland was not natural or inevitable and could only be accomplished by force - or a forceful ruler (Henry I, Henry II. Edward I). In fact, the process of integration may have fostered the development of cultural unity that could only be overcome by force. It sheds an exceptional light on the question of "natural" British unity. As with all of Davies works, his writing style can hold the reader's attention while still being well-documented in facts.

This is a wonderful former dissertation that became a good book, especially important now as we witness the ruin of the US auto industry, with the full complicity of its inmates. Notably, the last people to jump the sinking ship will be the UAW leadership, not the Ford or GM bosses. The UAW bosses need to preserve their pensions, while the Big Auto bosses know they are not in business to make cars, but money. How US auto came to its zombie like state now is, of course, rooted in its past, and Meyer does a fine job getting us in at the start. From Taylor, who sought to strip the mind of the worker on the job and to replace that mind with the mind of the boss, to the Christian benevolent societies that sought to Improve the Foreigners by destroying their culture---and the carrots and sticks that made that possible---all of that is here in the text. And the finger story is worth the price of admission alone.

Between 1996 and 2002, Fleur Olby illustrated all the articles I wrote for The Observer Magazine. Where her work is at it's very best, and where she stands out from any other plant photographer, is where the plant drifts away in it's abstraction. Invariably people would compliment me by saying my page 'looked' fantastic - and invariably it did because Fleur and the designer had made it so. Fleur, the editor and I would draw up a list of topics to cover over the coming month and we would work independently of each other, she taking the pictures and I writing the words. The first time I swathe pictures taken to accompany the piece was when I bought my copy of The Observer on a Sunday morning. It was a delight and a surprise.
Fleur has just published a collection of plant portraits called simply and aptly 'Fleur'. Quite a few of these pictures first appeared in The Observer, though there are plenty that I have not seen before, and this is the first time I have looked at her work without any connection to my own words. I can see now that I shackled her to the page.
Fleur's flowers often fall like watercolour onto the page, almost slipping away from their outline. The garden is left far behind and the pictures are more akin to looking down the lens of a microscope than swishing through a border. These are plants out of time and place, and locked into their own perpetual strangeness which, of course, they have always had, but which you had failed to notice in among all the gardening.
I am looking at a lisianthus, twisted twisted like a shell. Then there's a bearded iris (also purple - Fleur does purple especially well) whose petals loom, almost sinister, behind the beard that is caught in a patch of light. This small part of the flower - hardly more than a botanical marker in the garden - becomes the spotlit focus of the image and you realise you have never really looked at an iris at all.
I think my favourite picture is of a salvia which, at first glance, is almost a sketch or an impression caught in the wonderful, intense, pale-sky blue. It is not until you look closer and see the tiny hairs all up the plant that you realise this dreamy abstraction has been observed with the exactitude of a rare lepidopterous specimen.
Turn the page and there is a picture titled 'Red Rose Thorns'. These are the blood red thorns of Rosa sericea pteracantha, whose small flowers, born in late April, are white. The thorns are at their most translucently shocking on new growth, so one tends to prune it back in early spring to encourage vigorous new stems.
The downside of this is that the flower buds are formed from the previous seasons wood, so spring pruning removes them. In other words, you sacrifice the flowers for the thorns. To see the thorns - which is the reason I grow this fantastic rose - looking like this in my garden, they must be backlit, so it means looking at them in the evening. So these crimson flanges invariably come packaged with a low sun, weariness at the end of the day, the other familiar plants that accompany this particular bush, and even the cattle in the field the other side of the hedge. Fleur has ruthlessly excluded all of that and taken the plant back to the absolute essence, with it's vicious cleanness of line and shock of colour. It is just it's astonishing self with no history, no future and absolutely no horticulture, pinned to the page.

Monty Don. The Observer Magazine.16th October 2005.

This is the book that defined modern routing for the internet and helped to begin much of the operations reseach area. It is a must for those interested in turning over the old paradigm with "chaos theory" and non-linear dynamic approaches.