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HomeDistilling design ideas and other interesting topics

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Website The creative team techniques

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Portofolio Nothing is out there—let's try again

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Contact Heated conversations in the back yard

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Blueprint Crazy nature and other weather ideas

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Prijzen De kosten en het papierwerk

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Kale & Karen Only kale could make her happy

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Happiness On self-sufficient homes and pets

Home Distilling design and other interesting methods

Welkom bij Joomla Website Builder Groningen. Wij maken al een aantal jaren websites met behulp van  Joomla CMS. Naast het bouwen van Joomla websites kunnen we uw bestaande website in Joomla beheren en onderhouden.

Joomla is een populair en gebruiksvriendelijk content management systeem (CMS) dat door particulieren en professionele organisaties wordt gebruikt. Met Joomla kunnen websites en webwinkels gebouwd worden. Joomla is eenvoudig te bedienen. Wanneer wij een website opleveren kunt u op een simpele wijze via internet uw webpagina,s beheren, aanpassen en toevoegen. Daarbij heeft u geen kennis nodig van html of van andere programmeertalen.

Uitgebreide mogelijkheden Joomla biedt oneindig veel mogelijkheden. 

Voordelen Joomla

 

Website bijwerken vanaf elke locatie door iedereen binnen uw organisatie; 

Geen technische kennis nodig wat betreft HTML, PHP, FTP, software, hardware of andere technische zaken; 

Geen opleiding nodig. Ervaring met bijvoorbeeld Microsoft Word is voldoende om de content van uw website te beheren; 

Meerdere personen kunnen tegelijk aan de website werken; 

Eenmalige investering, dus geen maandelijkse kosten.; 

Bij JWG weet u waar u aan toe bent, betrouwbare service voor een goede prijs! Succes gegarandeerd! Neem geheel vrijblijvend contact met ons op voor een scherpe prijsopgave.

WebsiteThe creative team techniques

Wilt u als ondernemer uw bedrijf op internet zetten of wilt u als particulier een professionele website, dan is Joomla het systeem voor u. JWG heeft een standaard pakket voor u. Op basis van uw wensen zoeken we de beste en mooiste template of we maken een nieuwe template voor u. U geeft uw wensen door en wij maken er iets moois en origineels van. Wij werken met de meest recente versies van Joomla.

Op internet worden vele gratis templates aangeboden. Mochten we hier geen geschikte template tussen kunnen vinden, dan kunnen we altijd overwegen om een template te (laten) maken.

Standaard worden de websites die wij opleveren voorzien van zoekmachine vriendelijke url,s. Dit zorgt er voor dat lange url's verkort worden zodat uw website beter gevonden wordt in Google of andere zoekmachines.

Vast bedrag

Wij werken niet op uurbasis, u weet van te voren de totaalprijs. Wij rekenen geen maandelijkse of jaarlijkse kosten voor de opgeleverde website. Totaalprijs inclusief BTW 379,- (bij het gebruik van een gratis template). (excl. hosting bij een provider of uw provider)

Een website van JWG bevat standaard de volgende onderdelen:

Zoekmachine vriendelijke URLS

Polls (kleine onderzoeken)

Contactpagina (standaard in Joomla aanwezig)

Nederlandse Back-end gedeelte.

6 pagina's

Fotoalbum.

Backup.

Inlog- en registratiesysteem.

Uitgebreide editor om de inhoud te onderhouden.

3 maanden support.

Op basis van een gratis template.

Meerdere opties zijn altijd mogelijk, informeer naar de mogelijkheden.

Extra opties zijn :

Ontwerp van een template (uiterlijk van de site, inclusief uw logo)

Extra modules b.v. fotorotaties, newspro etc. Modules installeren kost 50,- per module

Taking Sneezes Nothing is out there—let's try again

I am living Egypt, living.... Your pyramids and your mosques and your old Nile can talk to me of things long past and gone, and I shall listen with interest to what they have to say, but I would rather be a living dog of an Egyptian than the dead lion of an Egyptian king—I would rather be a moving, talking native dressed in garish clothes than a Prince of the House of Rameses, sans eyes, sans ears, sans tongue, in the shrivelled brown form of a mummy.

For there is something about these living ones that brings the dead to life. Sometimes when I look into their eyes I seem to see a strange, mysterious light in them—a light that never was on sea or land. It is then that I think of the things these people have seen in the forty centuries of which Napoleon spoke. I don't believe in magic, but I have seen strange things—things that make me remember that the magicians of Pharaoh were able to turn their rods into serpents!

There came one day a very wise Egyptian—one whom I know as a Freemason—and he gave a valuable scarab, mounted in a gold ring, to Major Lynch. There was no doubt that the wise man valued it, and there is no doubt that he left an impression on Major Lynch. It is a talisman and a protection to the owner, but it has deadly powers. Nothing can harm the owner so long as he has it in his possession, and the owner can shrivel up an enemy by merely pointing at him and muttering incantations—just as the Northern Territory natives in Australia can will an enemy to die by pointing a bone at him. Major Lynch lost no time in putting the scarab to the test. There was a very troublesome native who used to bother him several times a day about things that don't matter, and the day after the wise Egyptian had made his presentation the major pointed at the native and muttered a powerful Australian incantation. Since then the native has not been seen.

ContactHeated conversations in the back yard

U kunt contct met ons opnemen via de mail.

Het algemene mail adres is info@jwgroningen.nl we proberen zo snel mogelijk te antwoorden.

U kunt ook het onderstaande formulier gebruiken.

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Contact opnemen

Adres:
Joomla Webdesign Groningen
Merkelbachstraat 6
9731LM Groningen
Tel: 050-5424836
E-mail: info@jwgroningen.nl
Inschrijving KvK: 62540092

Heeft u n.a.v. uw bezoek aan onze website een vraag, of wenst u meer informatie over de mogelijkheden die door ons worden geboden, dan kunt u uiteraard ook gebruik maken van onderstaand formulier.

Mountain Sun Crazy nature and other weather ideas

You had heard of the Plagues of Egypt; we have seen them, and are able to vouch for the authenticity of the Scriptures. Instead of hot cross buns, Easter brought us a plague of locusts. The entertainment started at about three o'clock in the afternoon and lasted till after sundown. Millions and billions and quadrillions of locusts danced and sang for us. The air was absolutely full of them, darkening the sun—big yellow and brown and black things, mostly about two inches long. They sounded like thousands of whirring wheels, and they dropped on the roofs with a noise like rain. Where they landed they left everything bare as a bone. All along the Nile the "gyppies" turned out and banged tin cans to drive them off. Here was an invasion, if you like! The telegraph wires were black with them—like long beads. Some of the beautiful Ma'adi gardens were quite spoilt. These locusts of Egypt have absolutely no love for the beautiful—in fact, the more beautiful a thing is the more delight do they take in devouring it.

But even a plague of locusts does not last for ever—and Egypt does. Egypt the wonderful! Egypt the kaleidoscopic! No, gentle reader, do not waste your sympathies on us. It was tiresome work, marching, training—training for the front, which for months never seemed to get any nearer, and some of "the boys"—those of them who were "spoiling for a fight," as the saying is—used at times to kick over the traces and paint the town vermilion; but there are compensations in Egypt for all who would seek them. What did it matter that we had no hot cross buns for Easter, no hard-boiled eggs, no ling, no salmon? We had omelettes and quail on toast, and chicken and curry and strawberries (no cream) and oranges and custard and jelly and Turkish coffee and Nile fish and pancakes and fritters and iced butter and beautiful jam and marmalade—and cigars. So we managed to get "a snack," you see. And I know that I, for one, had no desire just then to swap places with any man in Australia.

But even a plague of locusts does not last for ever—and Egypt does. Egypt the wonderful! Egypt the kaleidoscopic! No, gentle reader, do not waste your sympathies on us. It was tiresome work, marching, training—training for the front, which for months never seemed to get any nearer, and some of "the boys"—those of them who were "spoiling for a fight," as the saying is—used at times to kick over the traces and paint the town vermilion; but there are compensations in Egypt for all who would seek them. What did it matter that we had no hot cross buns for Easter, no hard-boiled eggs, no ling, no salmon? We had omelettes and quail on toast, and chicken and curry and strawberries (no cream) and oranges and custard and jelly and Turkish coffee and Nile fish and pancakes and fritters and iced butter and beautiful jam and marmalade—and cigars. So we managed to get "a snack," you see. And I know that I, for one, had no desire just then to swap places with any man in Australia.

It was night when we got back to camp. Oh, those Egyptian nights! The winter cold has gone, and spring is in the air. The nights are fine and fair, clear and cloudless, with the moon pure silver. The reflections in the Nile are just wonderful. The huge date palms stand out sharply from a star-spangled sky that somehow has a tint of green in its blue. One thinks of the Arabian Nights. The very street scenes make one think of them. Motors glide up and down the streets with rich Syrians, Greeks, Egyptians, Italians, Frenchmen and Englishmen, going to the Continental, or to Shepheard's, or to private entertainments. It is a gorgeous splash of colour. They had no motor-cars that I remember in those old Arabian Nights, but the magic of the thing and the colour of it all were surely much the same. And the roads of Egypt—how beautiful they are!—clean and smooth as a billiard table. Are there any finer roads in the whole world than the Mena road and that to Heliopolis? Fifty miles an hour is easy. I sometimes shudder now when I recall the races that we used to have along those roads at night, crying "Egre! Egre!"—Faster! Faster!

PrijzenHet papierwerk en de kosten

Hieronder treft u onze prijzen aan:

> Website, zoals omschreven bij Website Info: 379,-

> Module / component (installatie): 50,- 

> Back Up component (incl. Back Up):  35,- 

> Slideshow (incl. installatie): 50,- 

> Contactformulier (incl. installatie): 35,- 

> Gastenboek (incl. installatie) 35,- 

> Joomla site verhuizen naar een andere hoster 75,- 

> Uurtarief 30,- incl. BTW 

> Onderhoudswerkzaamheden op aanvraag 

Werkwijze Heeft u een probleem met uw Joomla website / webshop of wilt u iets aangepast hebben, neem dan contact met ons op. U ontvangt van ons een vastgestelde prijsopgave. Hiermee weet u van te voren wat de kosten zijn zodat u achteraf niet verrast wordt met een hogere rekening. 

Zelf bouwen en toch hulp nodig? Bouwt u zelf uw Joomla website / webshop maar u komt er niet helemaal uit? Neem dan contact met ons op! Wij helpen u tegen een geringe vergoeding graag weer op weg.

Bestaande website / webshop? Heeft u een website / webshop door een ander laten bouwen? Geen probleem! . Kortom aarzel niet en neem contact met ons op! 

Kale & Karen Only kale could make her happy

But even a plague of locusts does not last for ever—and Egypt does. Egypt the wonderful! Egypt the kaleidoscopic! No, gentle reader, do not waste your sympathies on us. It was tiresome work, marching, training—training for the front, which for months never seemed to get any nearer, and some of "the boys"—those of them who were "spoiling for a fight," as the saying is—used at times to kick over the traces and paint the town vermilion; but there are compensations in Egypt for all who would seek them. What did it matter that we had no hot cross buns for Easter, no hard-boiled eggs, no ling, no salmon? We had omelettes and quail on toast, and chicken and curry and strawberries (no cream) and oranges and custard and jelly and Turkish coffee and Nile fish and pancakes and fritters and iced butter and beautiful jam and marmalade—and cigars. So we managed to get "a snack," you see. And I know that I, for one, had no desire just then to swap places with any man in Australia.

It was night when we got back to camp. Oh, those Egyptian nights! The winter cold has gone, and spring is in the air. The nights are fine and fair, clear and cloudless, with the moon pure silver. The reflections in the Nile are just wonderful. The huge date palms stand out sharply from a star-spangled sky that somehow has a tint of green in its blue. One thinks of the Arabian Nights. The very street scenes make one think of them. Motors glide up and down the streets with rich Syrians, Greeks, Egyptians, Italians, Frenchmen and Englishmen, going to the Continental, or to Shepheard's, or to private entertainments. It is a gorgeous splash of colour. They had no motor-cars that I remember in those old Arabian Nights, but the magic of the thing and the colour of it all were surely much the same. And the roads of Egypt—how beautiful they are!—clean and smooth as a billiard table. Are there any finer roads in the whole world than the Mena road and that to Heliopolis? Fifty miles an hour is easy. I sometimes shudder now when I recall the races that we used to have along those roads at night, crying "Egre! Egre!"—Faster! Faster!

One charge was led by a doctor; another by a priest. Several times they charged so fiercely that they looked like getting out of hand. Scorning cover, they also scorned rifle fire. They scaled the steel-lined heights like demons. It was the bayonet all the time. One huge farmer actually bayoneted a Turk through the chest and pitchforked him over his shoulder. The man who performed this feat was a huge Queenslander—Sergeant Burne, of the 9th Battalion, who was afterwards wounded and returned to his Australian home—a man whose modesty is as great as his size. We smiled at first when we heard the story, and people in England and Australia read of it with amazement. But Sergeant Burne, standing over six feet high, and massively proportioned, looks quite capable of the feat. He himself tells the story in these words: "It is not a case for me to take any credit at all," he said. "I was in the platoon that landed first on the right. Our lieutenant was the first man to get ashore—and as game a man as ever faced fire. I followed him. I was ordered to take in hand a line of Turkish sharpshooters who were causing a lot of trouble. There was also a machine-gun on the hill. Somebody had to stop it. Myself and two lads went up, and we stopped it. That's all. There were ten Turks there. We got the Turks and we got the machine-gun, but I lost my two lads. They were only boys, but let me tell you the Australians are the best fighters in the world. One of the lads 'fixed' the German officer who was working the machine-gun. The Turks were higher up than we were, and I suppose that is how I was able to throw one of them over my shoulder. It's an old trick that is taught in the Guards."

Happiness On self-sufficient homes and pets

The casualties among the officers were tremendous—brave men who led Australia's soldiers in that awful charge! And among the bravest of them were the young officers from the Duntroon Military College that stands amid delightful country surroundings near the capital of Federated Australia that is now in the making in the Mother State of New South Wales. These young fellows fought in a way that showed their native courage and the excellence of their training. Only the year before, when Sir Ian Hamilton, as Inspector-General of the Oversea Forces, visited Australia and inspected these lads who were training for the army at Duntroon, as the representative of the Sydney Morning Herald I remember seeing them laugh and cheer when Sir Ian Hamilton, on leaving Duntroon, jokingly wished them "plenty of wars and rapid promotion." And it seems only a few days since we were dancing and flirting in a Cairo ballroom. Now many of them lie sorely wounded at the base hospital, and several will never again hear the réveillé. But the College will not forget its firstfruits offered up so gladly for empire. Officers and men, it was all the same—they went to their death with a cheer for King and Country. I heard an Imperial officer, newly returned from Flanders, say that the 3rd Australian Infantry Brigade was the finest brigade of infantry in the whole of the allied armies. In physique they were far superior to any of the British, French, or Belgian troops. Whether this be true or not, there is no doubt that the sturdy Thirds under Colonel Maclagan fought like Trojans on the Gallipoli Peninsula, and covered themselves with glory. Incidentally, I might mention, some of them never fired a shot during the fierce fighting of April 25. They simply trusted to the cold steel, and flung themselves at the Turkish trenches. The 1st Brigade (Colonel MacLaurin), the 2nd (Colonel McCay), and the rest of the Australians and New Zealanders fought with equal valour, but the brunt of the attack was borne by the Thirds. So many hundred gallant lives was a heavy price to pay for a footing in Gallipoli, but those impetuous charges, absolutely irresistible in their fury, would, we knew, bear rich fruit, for the Turks could never again withstand a bayonet charge by the Australians.

To have gone through all they had gone through, and then to treat it all so lightly, seemed an extraordinary thing. All the doctors and nurses commented on the amazing fortitude and cheerfulness of the Australian wounded. I used to think the desire to be in the thick of things, that I had so often heard expressed, was make-believe, but I know better now. I used to say myself that I "wanted to be there" (and sotto voce I used to add "I don't think"); and now, in my heart-searchings, I began to wonder if I didn't really mean it, after all. I used to strike an attitude and quote, "One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name," whilst all the time I felt in my heart that I would prefer a crowded age of glorious life to an hour of fame. Now I began to wonder whether in my heart's core, in my very heart of hearts, I did not agree with the poet. The proper study of mankind is Oneself. And what was I doing there, anyway?

And now, a hundred years after, we see French and British warships again off Alexandria. But this time the Union Jack and the Tricolour are intertwined, and in the streets of Alexandria French and British soldiers and sailors walk arm in arm, while the ancient city is gay with flags and bunting. For big things are brewing in the Levant. Before the eyes of the citizens during the past week was a unique international naval and military pageant—Zouaves, with their blue jackets and red trousers, French infantry in their blue-grey uniform, cavalry with gay tunics, British Jack Tars in blue and white, Australians in sombre khaki, swarthy-skinned Maoris from the Wonderland of the Southern Seas, and dusky warriors from the Punjab. British troops—and especially those young giants from Australia—had the better of the Frenchman in the matter of physique; but there was clear evidence of "grit" in the intelligent, humorous faces of the French, which helped one to understand why, for instance, they are said to be the finest marchers in Europe, and why the Germans never got to Paris!