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Another photo of magical practice. This photo was taken in Kuzuharaoka shrine (葛原岡神社) not far from Zeni'arai Benten.
There are plates indicating the female stone is in the left and the male stone in the right. Women are expected to tie a five yen coin with red string, which is sold by the shrine, to the male stone, and the men do the same to the female stone.
Five yen coin (五円) is pronounced "go'en," which is the same pronunciation as "relationship (御縁)." Tying five yen coin mimics establishing relationship.
Above-mentioned practice was introduced recently.
The shrine is also new. It was built in 1888 on the site where Hino Toshimoto (日野俊基 ? - 1332), a renowned poet who conspired to overthrow the Kamakura shogunate, was sent from Kyoto for execution in 1332. Kamakura Shogunate was overthrown in 1333 by Emperor Godaigo (後醍醐天皇 1288-1339).
Hino’s honour was restored after the Meiji Restoration since his conduct was regarded loyal to the emperor.
Religious sites of two rocks tied with a rope are found all over Japan. They are for matchmaking, marriage, good marital relations and fertility. The pair of rocks are genital symbols of Yin and Yang (陰陽).
Friendship is like a game of dominoes—sometimes you need the right match to keep things going. Each piece connects to another, forming a chain of shared experiences, trust, and support. Just like in life, a strong connection builds something bigger, and together, the pieces tell a beautiful story of friendship and unity.
Wardah Ahmar suggested that new!Flynn might make a decent match for Prepstapunz, and it made me think...
So here they are. I think they look kind of reminiscent of when they're in the tunnel escaping from the Snuggly Duckling.
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however, we are following Edith, Lettice’s maid, as she heads east of Mayfair, to a place far removed from the elegance and gentility of Lettice’s flat, in London’s East End. As a young woman, Edith is very interested in fashion, particularly now that she is stepping out with Mr. Willison the grocer’s delivery boy, Frank Leadbetter. Luckily like most young girls of her class, her mother has taught Edith how to sew her own clothes and she has become an accomplished dressmaker, having successfully made frocks from scratch for herself, or altered cheaper existing second-hand pieces to make them more fashionable by letting out waistlines and taking up hems. Thanks to Lettice’s Cockney charwoman*, Mrs. Boothby, who lives in nearby Poplar, Edith now has a wonderful haberdasher in Whitechapel, which she goes to on occasion on her days off when she needs something for one of her many sewing projects as she slowly adds to and updates her wardrobe. Mrs. Minkin’s Haberdashery is just a short walk from Petticoat Lane**, where Edith often picks up bargains from one of the many second-hand clothes stalls. Today she is visiting Mrs. Minkin with her friend and fellow maid, Hilda, who works for Edith’s former employer, Mrs. Plaistow and has Thursdays free until four o’clock.
“Cor, you are so lucky Edith,” remarks Hilda as the two friends stand at Mrs. Minkin’s cluttered, but well ordered shop counter. “Your Miss Lettice seems never to be home. Weekend parties and all that.”
“Are you complaining, Hilda?” Edith asks her friend as she gazes around the floor to ceiling shelves full of ribbons and bobbins, corsetry, elastics tapers, and fabrics and breathes in the smell of fabrics, and the cloves and lavender used by Mrs. Minkel to keep the moths at bay.
“Oh no!” Hilda defends with a shake of her head. “I’m so happy that you’ve got spare time in her absence to catch up with me, Edith. I just wish I had such luxury. You remember what it was like. I’m lucky if Mr. and Mrs. Plaistow go to Bournemouth for a fortnight in high summer, and even then, I get penalised by being paid board wages*** since they take Cook with them.”
“Miss Lettice has only gone down to Wiltshire for the weekend, Hilda,” Edith confirms, toying with a reel of pale blue cotton she plans to buy along with a reel of yellow and a reel of red cotton. “She’ll be back on Monday, so it would hardly be worth putting me on board wages.”
“She never does though, does she? Not even for Christmas when she goes home, and you go to your parents?”
“Well, no.” Edith admits, dropping her head as her face flushes with embarrassment. She knows how much better off she is with Lettice than in her old position as a parlour maid alongside Hilda at Mrs. Plaistow’s in Pimlico. Mrs. Plaistow is a hard employer, and very mean, whereas Lettice is the opposite, and she knows that she is very spoilt in her position as live-in domestic for a woman who is not at home almost as often as she is. “But,” she counters. “When Miss Lettice does come back, she’ll be bringing her future sister-in-law with her, and then I’ll be busy picking up after two flappers rather than one, and she often entertains when she has guests, so I’ll have my work cut out for me between cleaning and cooking for the pair of them.”
“Still, it’s not the same.” Hilda grumbles. “Even if you do have to work hard, it’s not like the hard graft I have to suffer under Mrs. Plaistow. Did I tell you that Queenie chucked in her position?”
“No!” Edith gasps, remembering Mrs. Plaistow’s cheerful head parlour maid who was kind and friendly to both her and Hilda. “She was always so lovely. You’ll miss her.”
“Will I ever.” Hilda agrees. “She’s gone home to Manchester, well to Cheshire actually. Said she’s done with the big lights of London now, and she wants to be closer to her mum now that she’s getting on a bit.”
“That’s nice for her.”
“That’s what she said, but I think she really found a new position to get away from Mrs. Plaistow and all her mean ways.”
“What’s her new position?”
“She’s working as a maid in Alderley Edge for two old spinster sisters who live in a big old Victorian villa left to them by their father who owned a cotton mill. She wrote to me a few weeks ago after she settled in. She told me that the old ladies don’t go out much as one of them is an invalid, and they seldom entertain. Half the house is shut up because it’s too hard for them to use it. There’s a cook, a gardener cum odd job man, and like you a char comes in to do the hard jobs, so she’s finding it much easier. She writes that she can even take the train in to Manchester on her afternoons off to go shopping and see her old mum.”
“That sounds perfect. Does that mean you’ll become the head parlour maid now, Hilda?”
Hilda cocks an eyebrow at her friend and snorts with derision. “Don’t make me laugh. This is Mrs. Plaistow we’re talking about.”
“Yes, but you seem the most obvious choice to fill Queenie’s spot.” Edith says cheerily. “You’ve been there for what, three years now?” Hilda nods in agreement to Edith’s question. “So, you’d be perfect.”
This time it is Hilda’s head that sinks between her shoulders in a defeated fashion, the pale brown knit of her cardigan suddenly hanging lose over her plump frame as she hunches forward slightly.
“Of course you would, Hilda!” Edith assures her friend, placing a comforting hand on her forearm.
“Mrs. Plaistow doesn’t think so. She says I need more experience.”
“Oh what rubbish!” Edith cries, the outrage and indignation for her friend’s plight palpable in her voice. “Three years is more than enough experience!”
“She’s gone and hired a new girl after putting an advertisement in The Lady****. Her name’s Agnes.”
Both girls look at one another, screw up their face at the name, mutter their disapproval and then burst into girlish laughter as they chuckle over the faces each other pulled in their shared disgust. It is then that Edith has a momentary pang of loss as she remembers the nights she and Hilda used to share in their tiny attic room at the top of Mrs. Plaistow’s tall Pimlico townhouse. It might have been cold with no heating to be had, but all the girlish silliness and fun they had made up for the lack of warmth: talking about the handsome soldiers they met on their shared days off, discussing what their weddings would be like – each being the other’s bridesmaid – and constant discussions about what was fashionable to wear.
“Mrs. Plaistow’s just being her usual penny-pinching self.” Edith remarks. “She just doesn’t want to increase your wages and pay you what you’re really worth. I bet she hired this Agnes at a lesser wage than Queenie got, and even then, I don’t think Queenie was paid her worth.”
“Probably not.” Hilda says in return.
“I don’t know why you put up with her, Hilda. There are plenty of jobs going for parlour maids. I got out and look at me now. I’ve overheard Miss Lettice talk about something called ‘the servant problem’ with some of her married lady friends, where people cannot find quality domestics like us unless they can provide good working conditions. That’s why my wage at Miss Lettice’s is higher than it was at Mrs. Plaistow’s, and why I have a nice bedroom of my own with central heating and a comfy armchair to sit in.”
“And Miss Lettice is a nice mistress.” Hilda adds. “Who’s away half the time.”
“And Miss Lettice is nice mistress.” Edith agrees. “I can always give you the details of the agency in Westminster that I registered myself with, which led Miss Lettice to me. It has a very good clientele.”
“I don’t think a duchess will pay any better than Mrs. Plaistow will.” remarks Hilda disparagingly. “Anyway, I’ve been making enquiries on my days off, not today of course, and putting my name about Westminster and St. James’, so who knows.”
“Well, the offer is there if you fancy.” Edith begins.
“Here we are, Edit, my dear!” Mrs. Minkin chortles cheerily, breaking the girls’ conversation as she appears through the door leading from her storeroom, a bolt of pretty blue floral cotton across her ample arms. “Mr. Minkin needs to keep to buying fabric and leave it to me to arrange it in my own back room.” She wags a pudgy finger decorated with a few sparkling gold rings warningly as she places the fabric down in front of the gleaming cash register. “It was hidden, but now it is found Edit my dear.”
A refugee from Odessa as a result of a pogrom***** in 1905, Mrs. Minkin’s Russian accent, still thick after nearly twenty years of living in London’s East End, muffles the h at the end of Edith’s name, making the young girl smile, for it is an endearing quality. Edith likes the Jewess proprietor with her old fashioned upswept hairdo and frilly Edwardian lace jabot running down the front of her blouse, held in place by a beautiful cameo – a gift from her equally beloved and irritating Mr. Minkin. She always has a smile and a kind word for Edith, and her generosity towards her has found Edith discover extra spools of coloured cottons or curls of pretty ribbons and other notions****** in the lining of her parcel when she unpacks it at Cavendish Mews. Mrs. Minkin always insists when Edith mentions it, that she wished all her life that she had had a daughter, but all she ever had were sons, so Edith is like a surrogate daughter to her, and as a result she gets to reap the small benefits of her largess, at least until one of her sons finally makes her happy and brings home a girl she approves of.
“Thank you, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith says.
“Have you seen the latest edition of Weldon’s*******, Edit my dear?” the older woman asks as she jots down the fabric price in pencil on a notepad by the register. “There’s a very nice pattern for a frock with side and back flounces in it.”
“That’s what this fabric is for!” Edith says excitedly. “I think it will make a lovely summer frock.”
“I thought so.” Mrs. Minkin says with a wink. “I’m getting to know my Edit’s style. No?”
Edith nods shyly in agreement.
“Now, anything else, Edit my dear?”
“I’ll take these three cottons too please, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith places her hands over the spools and rolls them forward across the glass topped counter.
“Of course, Edit my dear.” the older woman chortles. “Some buttons too?” She indicates with the sweeping open handed gesture of a proud merchandiser to a tray of beautifully coloured glass, Bakelite and resin buttons expertly laid out next to the till.
“Oh,” Edith glances down at them quickly. “No thank you Mrs. Minkin. I have some buttons at home in my button jar.”
“Nonsense!” she scoffs in reply, expertly flicking through the cards of buttons. “A new dress must have new buttons.” She withdraws a set of six faceted Art Deco glass buttons that perfectly match the blue of the flowers on the fabric Edith is buying. “You take these as a gift from me. Yes?”
“Oh, but Mrs. Minkin!” Edith begins to protest, but she is silenced by the Jewess’ wagging finger.
“I’ll just fold them in here with the dress fabric.” She announces as if nothing were more normal. “You take them home with you and when you have made the frock, you wear it in here for me so I can see my buttons.”
Then just as she is slipping the buttons into a fold in the patterned cotton, a contemplative look runs across her face. She glances at Edith and then shifts her head. “You know what would go nicely with this fabric?” she asks rhetorically as she deposits the cloth onto a pile of brown paper next to the register and leans back. Stretching her arms over a basket of various brightly coloured and patterned fabric rolls she plucks a hat stand from behind her on which sits a beautiful straw hat decorated with a brightly coloured striped ribbon and some dainty fabric flowers in the palest shade of blue and golden red. “This.” She places it on the counter between herself and the two maids, smiling proudly as though the hat were a beautiful baby.
“Oh Edith!” gasps Hilda. “Isn’t it lovely?”
“Oh yes it is.” agrees Edith.
“And with your blonde hair it would be perfect.” Hilda adds enthusiastically.
“Your friend has a good eye.” Mrs. Minkin pipes up, nodding in agreement at Hilda, blessing her with a magnanimous smile. “It would suit you very nicely.”
“Oh no, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith protests.
“Now, I can’t give it away,” the Jewess answers, squeezing her doughy chin between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand as she contemplates the pretty bow and flowers. “But for you, my dear Edit, I sell it for twelve and six.”
“Twelve and six!” gasps Edith. “Oh Mrs. Minkin, even at that generous price I could never afford it.” She gingerly reaches out and toys with one of the fabric blooms as it sits tantalisingly on the hat’s brim.
“Ahh,” sighs the older woman as she reaches over, picks up the hat stand and hat with a groan and returns it to the display top of the mahogany drawers behind her. “Pity. Your friend its right. It really would suit you.”
“I’m only a maid, Mrs. Minkin,” Edith reminds her. “And whilst I might get paid more generously than some,” She dares to glance momentarily at Hilda who does not return her gaze, distracting herself looking through a basket of balls of wool. “I’m afraid it’s Petticoat Lane for me, where I can buy a straw hat cheaply and decorate it myself with ribbons from here.”
“And you’ll do a beautiful job of it I’m sure, Edit my dear.” Mrs. Minkin replies consolingly. “Just remember to echo the colours on your new frock. Yes?”
“Alright Mrs. Minkin. I will.”
“Good girl.” Mrs. Minkin purrs.
Just as the older woman turns back to the two girls, Edith notices for the first time a small square box displayed next to the hat. The cover features the caricature of a woman in profile with a fashionable Eaton crop******** wearing a pearl necklace reaching into her handbag. “May-Fayre Handkerchiefs,” she reads aloud softly.
“Oh, I just received a delivery of them.” Mrs. Minkin reaches down and pulls open one of the drawers and withdraws another box. “They’re British made, and very good quality. Look.” She points proudly to some red writing on the face of the box. “The colours are guaranteed permanent.”
“Hankies?” Hilda queries. “You don’t need hankies, Edith. You’ve got loads of them.”
“Not for me, Hilda: for Mum,” Edith explains. “For Christmas.”
“But it’s summer. That’s months away!” Hilda splutters.
“I know, but I don’t see why I can’t do a spot of early Christmas shopping.” Edith defends her actions. “It will save me having to join the crowds desperately looking for gifts in December. How much are they Mrs. Minkin?”
“They’re three shillings and ninepence.” Mrs. Minkin replies. “You’re a sensible girl, Edit my dear. You shop for bargains, and you look for gifts all year round. What a pity you aren’t Jewish. You’d make a good wife for my Gideon.”
“No thank you, Mrs. Minkin,” Edith laughs. “No matchmaking for me.”
“Never mind.” Mrs. Minkin chuckles, joining in Edith’s good-natured laughing as she carefully folds brown paper around Edith’s fabric, buttons, box of handkerchiefs and spools of cotton.
“Besides,” Edith adds. “I already have a chap I’m walking out with. I can’t very well walk out with two, can I?”
“Well, a clever girl like you must have dozens of young men vying for her attentions, I’m sure.” The older woman ties Edith’s purchases up with some twine which she expertly trims with a pair of sharp shears.
“I wouldn’t say dozens. Anyway, just one will do me fine, Mrs. Minkin.”
“Now, the fabric is six shillings,” the proprietoress mutters, half to herself. “And the handkerchiefs three shillings and ninepence. With the three cottons, that comes to ten shillings exactly.” She enters the price into the register which clunks and groans noisily before the bright ting of a bell heralds the opening of the cash drawer at the bottom.
Edith opens her green leather handbag and pulls out her small black coin purse and carefully counts out the correct money in her palm. “Cheaper than a new straw hat.” She hands it over to Mrs. Minkin, who carefully puts it in the various denomination drawers of the till before pushing the cash drawer closed.
“Right you are Edit my dear. There you are.” Mrs. Minkin says cheerfully as she hands over Edith’s brown paper wrapped package bound with twine. “Now, what may I hep you with, my dear?” She turns her attention to Hilda.
“Me?” Hilda gulps, pressing the fingers of her right hand to her chest. “Oh, I’ve just come to keep my friend company. I don’t sew.”
“What?” The older woman’s eyes grow wide as she looks the rather dowdy brunette in the brown cardigan up and down appraisingly. “Not sew? What girl cannot sew?”
“Well I can’t,” Hilda replies. “And that’s a fact.”
“Foyl meydl*********!” gasps the Jewess aghast, her hand clasping the cameo at her throat. “All girls should know how to sew, even if badly.” She folds her arms akimbo over her large chest, a critical look on her face. “No goy********** will want to marry you if you can’t sew, my dear! Edit my dear,” She turns her attention away from Hilda momentarily. “You need to take your friend in hand and teach her how to sew.” She turns back to Hilda. “Your friend can show you. She knows how to make a silk purse from a sow’s ear. Eh?”
Hilda looks in terror at Edith, who bursts out laughing at her friend’s horrified face. Wrapping her arm comfortingly around her friend, Edith assures Mrs. Minkin that she will take Hilda under her wing. Winking conspiratorially at Hilda so that the proprietoress cannot see, she ushers her friend out of the haberdashery and back out onto the busy Whitechapel street outside with a cheery goodbye to Mrs. Minkin.
*A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.
**Petticoat Lane Market is a fashion and clothing market in Spitalfields, London. It consists of two adjacent street markets. Wentworth Street Market and Middlesex Street Market. Originally populated by Huguenots fleeing persecution in France, Spitalfields became a center for weaving, embroidery and dying. From 1882, a wave of Jewish immigrants fleeing persecution in eastern Europe settled in the area and Spitalfields then became the true heart of the clothing manufacturing district of London. 'The Lane' was always renowned for the 'patter' and showmanship of the market traders. It was also known for being a haven for the unsavoury characters of London’s underworld and was rife with prostitutes during the late Victorian era. Unpopular with the authorities, as it was largely unregulated and in some sense illegal, as recently as the 1930s, police cars and fire engines were driven down ‘The Lane’, with alarm bells ringing, to disrupt the market.
***Board wages were monies paid in lieu of meals and were paid in addition to a servant’s normal salary. Often servants were paid board wages when their employer went on holiday, or to London for the season, leaving them behind with no cook t prepare their meals. Some employers paid their servants fair board wages, however most didn’t, and servants often found themselves out of pocket fending for themselves, rather than having meals provided within the household.
****The Lady is one of Britain's longest-running women's magazines. It has been in continuous publication since 1885 and is based in London. It is particularly notable for its classified advertisements for domestic service and child care; it also has extensive listings of holiday properties.
*****Pogroms in the Russian Empire were large-scale, targeted, and repeated anti-Jewish rioting that began in the Nineteenth Century. Pogroms began to occur after Imperial Russia, which previously had very few Jews, acquired territories with large Jewish populations from the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth and the Ottoman Empire from 1772 to 1815. The 1905 pogrom against Jews in Odessa was the most serious pogrom of the period, with reports of up to 2,500 Jews killed. Jews fled Russia, some ending up in London’s east end, which had a reasonably large Jewish community, particularly associated with clothing manufacturing.
******In sewing and haberdashery, notions are small objects or accessories, including items that are sewn or otherwise attached to a finished article, such as buttons, snaps, and collar stays. Notions also include the small tools used in sewing, such as needles, thread, pins, marking pens, elastic, and seam rippers.
*******Created by British industrial chemist and journalist Walter Weldon Weldon’s Ladies’ Journal was the first ‘home weeklies’ magazine which supplied dressmaking patterns. Weldon’s Ladies’ Journal was first published in 1875 and continued until 1954 when it ceased publication.
********The Eton crop is a type of very short, slicked-down crop hairstyle for women. It became popular during the 1920s because it was ideal to showcase the shape of cloche hats. It was worn by Josephine Baker, among others. The name derives from its similarity to a hairstyle allegedly popular with schoolboys at Eton.
*********”Foy meydl” is Yiddish for “lazy girl”.
**********”Goy” is Yiddish for a gentile, non-Jew.
Mrs. Minkin’s cluttered haberdashers with its bright wallpaper and assortment of notions is not all it seems to be at first glance, for it is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The pretty straw picture hat on the left, decorated with a real fabric ribbon and artificial flowers is an artisan piece and was acquired through Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders miniature shop in the United Kingdom. 1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism are often far more expensive than real hats are. When you think that it would sit comfortably on the tip of your index finger, yet it could cost in excess of $150.00 or £100.00, it is an extravagance. American artists seem to have the monopoly on this skill and some of the hats that I have seen or acquired over the years are remarkable. In this case, the straw hat was made by a British artisan. In complete contrast, the hat on the right with its restrained decoration is a mass manufactured hat and came from Melody Jane’s Doll House in the United Kingdom. Contrary to popular belief, fashion at the beginning of the Roaring 20s did not feature the iconic cloche hat as a commonly worn head covering. Although invented by French milliner Caroline Reboux in 1908, the cloche hat did not start to gain popularity until 1922, so even though this story is set in that year, picture hats, a hangover from the pre-war years, were still de rigueur in fashionable society even after this. Although nowhere near as wide, heavy, voluminous or as ornate as the hats worn by women between the turn of the Twentieth Century and the Great War, the picture hats of the 1920s were still wide brimmed, although they were generally made of straw or some lightweight fabric and were decorated with a more restrained touch.
The May-Fayre handkerchief box and the lisle hose box sitting directly behind it come from Shepard’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom, who have a dizzying array of packaging pieces from the late 1800s to the 1970s. The Warner Brothers corset box behind them and the corset box sitting on the second shelf to the left were made meticulously by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The box of Wizard tapes on the top shelf to the left and the pink corsetry box on the bottom shelf to the left I acquired from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel as part of a larger collection of 1:12 artisan miniature hats, gloves, accessories and haberdashery goods. Edith’s green leather handbag also comes from Marilyn Bickel’s collection.
The jewellery stand, complete with jewellery comes from a 1:12 miniature supplier in Queensland. The round mirror, which pivots, and features a real piece of mirror was a complimentary gift from the same seller.
The basket in the midground to the right, filled with embroidery items is a 1:12 miniature I have had since I was a teenager. I acquired it from a high street shop that specialised in dolls and doll house accessories.
The Superior Quality buttons on cards in the foreground next to the cash register are in truth tiny beads. They, along with basket of rolled fabrics in the left midground, the spools of cottons and the balls of wool in the basket on the right all come from various online shops who sell dollhouse miniatures.
The brightly shining cash register was supplied by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering in the United Kingdom.
The mahogany stained chest of drawers on which the hats, jewellery, mirror and boxes stand I have had since I was around ten years old.
Been keeping this one a 'lil secret for a while now. This time I tried a blue iridium visor and OD green to match my matchmaking character. I also used waterslide decals for the insignias. Enjoy!
Special thanks to Steven Lee
In other news, my website is now online. Check it out here! Legacy Forge Customs
Behind Kiyomizu-dera's main hall stands Jishu Shrine, a shrine dedicated to Ōkuninushi, the deity of love and matchmaking. Beyond the shrine there is a notice board of names. These names belong to grateful couples who returned to the shrine to show their gratitude after they have gotten married.
Source: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiyomizu-dera
More info: en.japantravel.com/kyoto/cupid-of-japan-kyoto-jishu-shrin...
Fukuoka Municipal Zoo and Botanical Garden / Fuji X-Pro2 × XF 35mm F2 R WR / mokuu.cc/2016/04/post-1960.html / JG C4 025
The girl in the backpack center right is attempting to reach the love stone on the ground with her eyes closed while be encouraged by friends and strangers.
This is Jishu Shrine in Kyoto. The shrine is dedicated to the god of marriage and matchmaking so it is very popular among young people. There are two very special stones that are about 10 meters apart. It is said if you can walk between them with your eyes closed without going astray you will find true love.
p.s. She made it as everyone cheered her on including myself.
Have a great weekend!!!
Stella - Matchmaking Major (1848)
1000 pieces. Complete.
40x25 grid = 1000 pieces.
Artist: Pavel Fedotov (1815-1852)
We see the horrified bride straining against the clutches of her mother, while the groom-to-be strokes his moustache in the other room. The servants look on with mild amusement, and the cat couldn't be bothered less by all the fuss.
It seems that Fedotov might have redone this painting a few years later (The Major Makes a Proposal - 1851). That painting differs in several details, but the depicted scene is identical. (The mother is older, the tablecloth is green, and the walls are adorned differently, etc.) Perhaps the Major, after being rebuffed on his first attempt, revisits the family only to find this girl "just don't want him".
This one was a bigger challenge than expected, especially in the darker area of the ceiling. The pieces were easily mismatched.
{36959}
Step into campus life with Rush Week, a dynamic Greek Row experience designed to help you find your people and your place. Powered by the innovative Spark matchmaking system, you’ll be paired with compatible residents and live social scenes from the moment you arrive. Whether you’re looking to connect, roleplay, or simply explore a vibrant […]
Check it out: media-sl.com/rush-week-greek-row-social-matchmaking-exper...
Published on Media-SL.com
Happy smelly Monday as todays shot takes us to the beauty of West Clare, and the town of Lisdoonvarna - with its occasional reek of sulphur from the waters.
This beautiful shot from the lens of Mr. French shows the bath houses in pristine condition, with many people there relaxing and enjoying themselves.
(And congratulations to the Ireland team for their first ever victory against the mighty New Zealand All Blacks. Magnificent!)
Lots of brilliant insights on this image in the comments. Including a reminder that we've followed the Victorian fashion and "taken the waters" at Lisdoonvarna's other wells before today. This Lawrence Collection image captures just how popular a tourist activity it was - with dozens of seemingly middle-class visitors at their leisure. Presumably rented towels are drying outside the bath house, and musical entertainment is evident outside the pump house - confirming that the crowds came to Lisdoonvarna long before the music and matchmaking festivals....
Photographer: Robert French
Collection: Lawrence Photograph Collection
Date: Catalogue range c.1865-1914. Though likely after c.1890 based on the date of the main pump-house building.
NLI Ref: L_ROY_08778
You can also view this image, and many thousands of others, on the NLI’s catalogue at catalogue.nli.ie
Matchmaking issues and disconnects have postponed the beta. Updates are continuing to flow.
www.pcinvasion.com/rainbow-six-siege-beta-delayed-ongoing...
Been keeping this one a 'lil secret for a while now. This time I tried a blue iridium visor and OD green to match my matchmaking character. I also used waterslide decals for the insignias. Enjoy!
Special thanks to Steven Lee
In other news, my website is now online. Check it out here! Legacy Forge Customs
#DOTA 2 #Matchmaking unleash the power of #teams gamers! Let's go to discover more at viralgamesnews.com/dota2update.html
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U.S. Customs and Border Protection, Commissioner Kevin McAleenan presented the keynote speech at the B2G Northern Virginia Matchmaking Conference on May 1, 2018 in Herndon, Virginia...Photographer: Donna Burton
I was on my way to visit some museums in Shanghai when I passed through People's Park. There were a ridiculous number of people packed there, nearly all middle-aged or older. I wondered if there was some sort of exercise activity or performance going on there. Then I saw a man wearing a sign around his neck like a political prisoner or something, but the sign actually had information about his adult son. What was going on?
It turns out that this is where all the parents come together to look for matches for their kids! (There are also some folks who are looking for themselves.) There's a special area for older folks, and there's an "overseas corner".
Each parent sits there with a sign with their son or daughter's year of birth, height, job, and sometimes salary. A few have pictures. In China, another important stat is your hukou, or city of residence registration (sort of an internal passport and immigration system). Some signs advertise that their kids have a car, or that they have a house in a nice area, both highly-sought prerequisites among the middle class these days.
I overheard a conversation where one mother said to another (in Shangahainese):
"*sigh* Kids these days don't even want you to look for them. I had to sneak over here! They'd raise such a fuss if they found out. But what else are we gonna do, right?"
This one of three screenshots which demonstrates a new option available when you purchase and install the new maps or the full Drake's Fortune Multiplayer Pack bundle.
Read about it here:
www.naughtydog.com/site/post/the_new_dlc_matchmaking_and_you
The Abdul Latif Jameel Poverty Action Lab (J-PAL) organized matchmaking consultations during the Evidence Symposium to catalyse new partnerships amongst implementers and researchers. Ms. Fatma Triki, Enda Inter-Arabe, Mr. Nic van der Jagt, SPARK, Ms. Susan Kippels, Al Qasimi Foundation, Ms. Shadin Hamaideh, INJAZ, Mr. Adnan Seric, UNIDO, and Ms. Sarah Mohammad Ghaleb, Abdul Latif Jameel-Community Initiatives, presented their projects to policy makers and researchers.
For more information about the Doha Evidence Symposium, please visit www.ilo.org/empent/Eventsandmeetings/WCMS_234442/lang--en....
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Matchmaking systems in any game can be great or a pain, some work fine while others are just terrible. Jeff Kaplan has explained how it works in Overwatch.
This one of three screenshots which demonstrates a new option available when you purchase and install the new maps or the full Drake's Fortune Multiplayer Pack bundle.
Read about it here:
www.naughtydog.com/site/post/the_new_dlc_matchmaking_and_you