View allAll Photos Tagged affectionate
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These two were having a blast running up and down and all over this maple tree, then they stopped for a little snuggle. They were also preening each other. I got such delight out of watching them.
The Collie breed originated from Scotland where they were used as a hardworking sheepdog. They are still used today to work/herd animals on farms. The Collie was first registered by the AKC in 1885 and was grouped as Herding. The Collie is intelligent, loving, affectionate and social. This breed is great with kids because they are so mile mannered. They make great watchdogs and protectors
Affectionately dubbed the 'Bean Can' the C-Tron "Dolly" Cradle Transport was designed specifically for hauling rocket stages around the base,
Featuring a cylindrical space-frame payload (easily extendible with extra sections and an allen key) even the cockpit can be swapped out of the 'cradle' at the end of an upgrade cycle and replaced with ever more confounding tech.
Rolling on Carlos Fandango 'hubless' wheels, this examples' Cab features the top-of the line 'Rococo Plus' ornate window package.
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This was supposed to be a sort of contemporary NASA cab rover like you might see in a 'Mars 2030' video but it went a bit left of field.
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Yes it's a render, but I try to keep things all above board.
© All Rights Reserved - No Usage Allowed in Any Form Without the Written Consent of Sharon C Johnson/MyRidgebacks - metadata embedded
This is Sammy one of my cats, as he woke up from his daily "Cat Nap" as I took this image of him. He is about 6 years old now, but still very affectionate and playful with my other cat Mordecai.
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Hope Y'all like this shot of my cat Sammy. Lol: Gaston (aka Gasssman)
Thanks to all my Flickr Friends for your support on my work.
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view in large or original size for the Cat's Meeeoooww details.!!!!
Phantom FG1, affectionately known as 'Black Mike' due to the types's unique paint scheme. It's paint scheme comes from it's role as display aircraft for 111(F) Squadron, Royal Air Force.
The aircraft is seen here at RAF Cosford, where is has been moved to form part of the RAF100 Static Exhibition at the RAF Cosford Air Show 2018. (www.cosfordairshow.co.uk).
Affectionately called by the Italians as the typewriter, the Altare della Patria, also known as the Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II ("National Monument to Victor Emmanuel II"), is a monument built in honor of Victor Emmanuel, the first king of a unified Italy, located in Rome, Italy. It occupies a site between the Piazza Venezia and the Capitoline Hill. Was designed by Giuseppe Sacconi in 1885; sculpture for it was parceled out to established sculptors all over Italy, such as Leonardo Bistolfiand Angelo Zanelli. It was inaugurated in 1911 and completed in 1925.
This is my gorgeous baby Moriarty (named after watching far too much Sherlock Holmes) sitting watching the snow fall.
He is so soppy and affectionate as well as being the most beautiful cat in the whole World, I know I'm slightly bias, but those eyes!
Moriarty is a Ragdoll. I chose the breed Ragdoll because of their laidback temperament, beautiful blue eyes and affectionate behaviour, and he definitely lives up to it.
Here's a bit of info about Ragdolls, for anyone who's interested in the breed.
Ragdolls are large, laid-back, semi longhaired cats with captivating blue eyes. The Ragdoll is a pointed breed, which means that the body is lighter in colour than the points (the face, legs, tail and ears). The Ragdoll cat is carefully bred to produce large affectionate animals in three patterns, two with white (mitted and bi-colour) and one with no white (colourpoint). The ideal Ragdoll is a well-balanced cat, with no extreme features. Neutered males will usually top the scale at 15-20 pounds; females are proportionately smaller and usually weigh between 10-15 pounds at maturity. Ragdolls are slow-maturing, reaching full coat colour at two years, and full size and weight at four.
Ragdoll cats tend to be more interested in humans than some breeds of cats. They are known to run to greet you at the door, follow you from room to room, flop on you, sleep with you, and generally choose to be where you are. Many Ragdolls have been taught to come when called and play fetch. They are gentle cats, and usually play without extending their claws. Ragdolls tend to be floor cats, not jumpers. The Ragdoll's semi long coat is plush and silky, and requires minimal grooming to keep it looking its best. They should be combed with a steel comb on a regular basis to find and remove any loose hair or tangles. Quality coats consist mainly of long, soft guard hairs. Ragdolls, just like all breeds of cats, will shed, usually with the change of seasons. The absence of the thick, dense, insulating undercoats results in reduced shedding and matting. In all, Ragdolls are well behaved, and easy to care for perfect pet for our modern, busy, lifestyles.
Ragdolls were developed in the 1960's by Ann Baker; a breeder in Riverside California. The origin of the Ragdoll breed consisted almost entirely of free-roaming cats. Ann bred Josephine, a domestic longhaired white female that was found running loose in her neighbourhood, to other cats she owned or found. The offspring of this female had unique temperament traits that were very endearing. By selecting individuals with the look, temperament and criteria she wanted for her breeding program, she created the Ragdoll breed.
We met Tor of the Demetae and Lucan of the Silures at the fresh water spring. Lancelot greeted them with a friendly slap on their backs. Myrddin and Arthur examined the spring closely, while the others searched the hillside for a hidden entrance. Cavall hinted I should sniff out different scents.
I didn't quite know what I was looking for, but sniffed and listened out for something that wasn't the hillside or Arthur's company.
I made sure to stay close to Guinevere. She chose to search the hillside around the spring with the others. The spring itself resembled a shallow pool, gently overflowing into a stream that trickled down the hill. The water tasted sweet on my tongue, with a hint of chalk. My paws stopped aching and I felt less weary from the long journey. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until now, and drank until every part of me felt refreshed.
It was then I sniffed out a scent which seemed always there, like the hawthorn and gall-apples of the woodland.
'You sense it too, don't you,' Cavall said. 'What do you smell?'
'A scent that's like the hillside and hawthorn and gall-apples,' I said, which was the only way to describe it. 'But with a deeper sweet tone like the spring water. It's a scent that . . . blends in.'
'And here,' called Maisie from the stream. 'Do you hear that?'
I heard and smelt it. A scent so overpowering I wondered how the humans hadn't noticed. My ears pricked at the sound of water dripping from somewhere deep under my paws. The entire hill echoed with the sound, creating a trail of scent that led close to the summit. I ran up with Cavall and my sibling companions. Arthur and Guinevere pointed us out and said, 'The animals have found something. Come!'
My heart pounded with excitement. Close to the summit was a small wooded glen and the remains of a hut. An elderly man sat among the fallen leaves and grasses, wearing a cloak wrapped around a simple tunic. From a distance he looked a lot like the other humans accompanying Arthur and his company.
'It's just an old man from the villages,' Owain called out to his friends.
'No, he's not just an old man. No one is just a person,' said Arthur, running past Owain.
I saw the old man's eyes sparkle. He sat there waiting and watching, the brief hint of a smile on his face. I ran straight to him and sat by his feet. I didn't even shy away when his hand touched my fur. Cavall greeted him like an old friend, tail wagging. The old man laughed affectionately.
'What an unusual company,' he said. 'A red fox from another time yet part of our time.' He glanced up and saw Guinevere approach. 'Ah, so you're a companion of that one too.'
The elderly man reached for his hawthorn staff and sat up, like a king about to greet is subjects.
I expected Arthur to suggest the old man return to his village, warn him Medraut's Saxon army was heading this way. The two regarded each other, and in that moment I smelled that same scent on Arthur. I glanced from Arthur's face to the old man's. The two could have been grandfather and grandson.
Then Arthur did something that made everyone gasp. He knelt in front of the elderly man and said, 'I know you. I don't know how, but I know you.'
So many scenes rushed through my mind on what might happen next. I thought of Indiana Jones and how he tried to explain to the ancient knight before Donavan and Elsa stepped into the cave. I thought of rabbits with deadly bites, chewing the heads of knights. I thought of wizards in grey robes living in schools and tall towers. But there was no cave full of jeweled cups or white rabbits nearby. Instead the elderly man placed his right hand on Arthur's shoulder and beckoned he stand. In the next moment it was the elderly man kneeling, holding out his staff across both hands for Arthur to take.
'You have proved yourself worthy,' said the elderly man.
'Who are you?' asked Arthur.
'I think you know the answer to that,' the elderly man smiled. 'Some may know me as the Fisher King. The descendant of a company who traveled with the cup and the staff from Arimathea nearly five centuries ago.'
'Descendants?' asked Guinevere, catching up.
'Long ago, the son of a weary uncle from Arimathea settled this land and called it his home. He planted his father's staff as a symbol of a new beginning. As the staff took root and flourished, so too did his children and their children. They spread to all corners of the land, some to realms beyond the widest oceans, but the anchor of the tree and the spring always bound them here.'
'So, you're a descendant of Joseph of Arimathea?' asked Arthur.
'One of many who now walk this land,' said the old man. 'I am one of a handful who vowed to guard the secret of what you call the cup of life. A tradition that has been passed down from parent to child for generations. But now I grow weary of my task as Joseph grew weary of his, so I pass it on to you who have passed the challenges.'
'Challenges?' Lancelot raised his brows.
'He means how I pulled my sword from under the stone as a boy, and meeting the Silures and Demetae. But the true test was those two children, wasn't it?' said Arthur.
The old man nodded. 'With one further test to go,' he said, flicking his eyes briefly towards me. 'But will you accept it?'
That scent I tried to push back returned, stronger and more potent than ever. It was accompanied by the thunderous roar of countless soldiers echoing behind the hills. Arthur's company startled into action. Messengers came running with panic on their faces.
'I know,' Arthur said with a deep sigh. 'Medraut's armies are upon us.'
Arthur gave the call straight away. He stared grimly from the hilltop at the advancing Saxons: an ocean of shields and helmets, with the march of feet like waves pounding a shore.
None of Arthur's knights dared say what was on their minds, but from the expressions on their faces they knew they were outnumbered. Lancelot balled his fists, determined not to go down without a fight. Brunor, Fergus and Owain placed their hands on their swords. Lucan and Tor stood side by side, their faces freshly painted for war. Guinevere glared hard at the Saxons, ready to knock down any who dared approach. All around us soldiers and anyone willing to fight grabbed whatever they could as a weapon, while families fled to safer ground.
'I will make a stand over there, who is with me?' said Guinevere, pointing her sword towards Wearyall Hill.
'Yes, let them fight us on two fronts!' Lancelot declared.
I chose the Guinevere Front, and marched with the riders of Minas Daelor to Wearyall Hill. Thankfully Arthur chose to make a stand there too.
'Defend the tree. Let no one approach it,' he said.
I sensed he was also doing this to distract Medraut from that little wooded glen we met the old man. Arthur and Guinevere arranged all the soldiers in formations, until the entire hill was covered in gleaming armor. Owain did the same on the breaking wave hill. Their armor reflected the late morning sun, straight into the eyes of the advancing Saxons.
'That'll slow them a bit,' Arthur said.
It didn't appear to slow the Saxons at all. They just held up their own shield to block the reflected sunlight.
'Perfect, they are blinded by the cover of their shields!' Guinevere said. 'Archers. Now!'
A volley of arrows shot up, over our heads, and rained down on the Saxons. The thudding of arrows on shields made a sound like a flock of woodpeckers. Another volley came, and then another, but the Saxons marched on undeterred.
'They've been trained in Roman combat,' Arthur grumbled. Then he saw one Saxon stand out from the rest. The Saxon's black cloak was like midnight against his bronze armor.
'Medraut,' Guinevere hissed.
For a brief instant the armies stood in a face off. Arthur's knights defending two island hills, Medraut's Saxons like the ocean lapping their shores. The noise of their shouting and war cries was deafening. Each army trying to lure the other in. I quickly gathered up my sibling companions, hoping for a way out. Anything to get away from this war.
Then it happened. A man slid on wet grass and the Saxons saw it as an attack. Britons, Romans and Saxons immediately rushed forward in a charge. The clash of their swords and shields was even louder than their shouting. Within a blink I dodged boots and swords and falling soldiers, blood spattering the grass. All I could think now as to keep close to my sibling companions. Make sure we never got separated, and try and weave our way through to the hawthorn tree. Cavall's bark rang out, guiding us forward and left and right.
We threw ourselves under the hawthorn tree. Of all the adventures I'd been on, this was the scariest. There was so much screaming and crying and blood the little lakes turned pink as camellias. I wondered what happened to the old man. Where did he go in the midst of all this?
I tried to sniff out his scent, but there was just the blood and the odor of death. Bodies littered the ground. Saxons and Romans and Britons side by side where they fell. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see any more. Wishing I was back home in Gogerddan and my birthday sleepover. I begged it would happen. I prayed to the trees I'd open my eyes and find myself in my own time.
Then two familiar scents drowned out the blood. I opened my eyes and saw Arthur and Guinevere in front of me. They both raised their swords, gleaming in the sun. They flashed a signal to Lucan and Tor, and then to the others on the breaking wave hill.
Cavall raised his nose to the sky and sniffed. The gleaming swords slowly dimmed. The battle subdued, and in minutes everyone paused like they'd been frozen in time.
'What's happening?' Maisie whispered.
I padded over to the oak trees. Little crescents lit the woodland floor. I watched them get narrower and narrower as the light around us continued to fade. My whole body felt tingly, my heart pounding fast, everywhere fell so still and quiet I heard the trickle of water from the spring.
'It's an eclipse of the sun,' I said as I saw the ring in the sky.
Arthur stared across the frozen army of Saxons.
'Medraut. This ends now. We will both drink from the cup together!' he said.
Arthur held up a drinking bowl for everyone to see. 'We will drink from this cup,' he said again.
'That is the cup of eternal life?' Medraut asked.
'Will you drink with me or not? We must arrange a truce,' said Arthur. 'From this day on, let Britons, Romans and Saxons live together in peace and understanding.'
Medraut whispered to his chief soldiers, then said, 'I agree,' with a smirk I didn't like at all.
I followed Arthur and Guinevere to the spring, moving quickly while the eclipse still darkened the sky.
'That's the cup? You know Medraut is going to trick you. He has no intention of peace in this realm,' Guinevere said.
Arthur just nodded and marched on. Cavall walked beside him, his nose in the air, sniffing out Medraut now waiting on the hillside. Soldiers and knights parted to allow him though, frowning curiously at Arthur with the drinking bowl. There was something about that bowl – a scent that soon made Cashew chuckle.
'Oh, I get it,' Cashew said.
I got it too. The scent on that bowl was Cavall scent, and there was only one reason I could think of for that. I watched Arthur half fill the bowl from the spring and offer it to Medraut.
'You first. No tricks,' Medraut said, gruffly.
'Fine, I go first,' Arthur said. He drank from the bowl, taking three big gulps, then offered it to Medraut again.
'how do you feel now Arthur?' asked Guinevere.
'Fantastic. Like the gods have granted me their power,' Arthur replied. 'I feel so alive and as youthful as the boy I once was. Perhaps if I drink a little bit more . . . '
'No, I will drink,' Medraut snatched the bowl from Arthur's hands and filled it to the brim with spring water. Everyone watched him put the bowl to his lips and tip the contents down his throat.
'Want another?' Arthur gestured to the spring. 'Think of the power.'
'I will be all powerful. More powerful than all the gods,' Medraut said. 'I will be ruler of not just this land, but all the lands and the afterlife beyond. My skin will be stronger than armor, my eyes like suns, and my sword like lighting from the sky.'
'That doesn't sound very powerful. You could be even more powerful than that. As powerful as the sun,' Arthur said.
'More powerful than the sun,' Medraut downed his third bowl. 'The sun will bow before me!'
'And youthful? This is a cup of eternal life. It restores youth. How old are you, Medraut? Think of how youthful you will be,' Arthur said.
'Eternal youth and power,' Medraut laughed, then swiftly gulped down a fourth bowl.
'Yes, you certainly look young and powerful as the sun,' Arthur said. 'But how do you know? If you are as powerful as you say, perhaps we should test it.'
'A test?' Medraut said. 'I do not need to test my power on the likes of you. This land is mine. The world is mine. I am all powerful and you will bow before me!'
'Yes, yes, but before we do. We'd like a demonstration,' Arthur said.
'Perhaps he is afraid. How can we be ruled by a coward?' Guinevere laughed.
'I am no coward,' Medraut said, then filled the bowl and drank a fifth time. 'I will show you my youth and my power by . . . ' he looked around wildly. 'By climbing that siege tower and jumping off the top. I will fly like a bird and land on the summit of that hill, revealing I am the rightful ruler and all powerful god!'
'Go on then. I dare you,' said Owain.
We all watched Medraut climb the tower. Already I sensed something change in him. His face looked younger, and his arms and legs began to shrink. He climbed up and up, but with each step, he shrank that little bit more.
Suddenly he stopped and coughed. A ball of silvery fur dribbled from his mouth.
'What is this?' Medraut scowled.
Arthur looked at Cavall. 'I didn't know you cough fur-balls like a cat,' he said.
'I don't, but sometimes I swallow some when I clean myself,' Cavall chuckled.
'What's the difference in human years and dog years?' Lancelot asked.
'Depends on the dog and the human I suppose,' Arthur laughed. 'Hey, Medraut, how's that youth?'
'Great. I am all powerful!' Medraut said.
He reached the top of the siege tower and leaped. He plummeted straight down, his body continuing to shrink. I heard the cry of a young man followed by the yap of a tiny puppy. Guinevere caught him before he hit the ground.
'He turned into a dog,' Lancelot said, aghast. 'How?'
'Oh, how cute. A puppy,' said Guinevere, scratching the little dog behind the ears.
'What's the meaning of this?' a Saxon chief came marching over. 'Where is Medraut?'
'Medraut you say?' said Arthur as the sky brightened. 'He drank from Cavall's water bowl and threw himself off that tower.'
'So are you saying the Holy Grail is a dog's bowl?' said Owain after the Saxons left. Their new chief was actually thrilled to be the one in charge now, and vowed a truce between his people and the Romans and Britons.
'Not quite,' said Arthur. 'The cup of eternal youth is different for all of us. It's our dreams. It's what makes us who we are. The cup is within all of us and we just have to find it.'
'But that still doesn't explain how Medraut turned into a puppy,' said Lancelot. 'Myrddin, was that your wizardry?'
'No, that was all Medraut, and this,' Arthur held up a cutting from the hawthorn tree on Wearyall Hill.
'So the tree's the cup?' Brunor frowned.
'Not quite,' Arthur laughed. 'The tree just represents our journey. The tree Joseph planted here in the Isle of Apples after his journey from Arimathea. He carried the staff from home – which marks the beginning, and then planted the tree here – which marks the end. Beginning and end in a continuous cycle.'
'But that's not quite all, is there? The tree just represents the beginning and the end of a journey. It's not actually the grail,' said Lucan.
'So what is?' asked Tor.
'He told you. It's our dreams and hopes,' said Owain. He looked closely at Arthur. 'Is that all there is?'
Arthur and Guinevere exchanged a look. I smelled a new scent coming from Guinevere's tummy. He gave her Cavall's bowl and then climbed the hillside so he stood over all of us.
'You're not coming back home, are you?' Guinevere said.
No one liked the idea of Arthur leaving, but the way the sunlight caught his face calmed them. I thought of the boy I first saw in the woods chatting to Myrddin, the youthful man who's face shone just like it shone now.
'The sword is in your hands now, Lancelot,' said Arthur. 'As this sword balances between pommel and blade, let your rule be just and fair. Let it be the balance of justice and equality. Excalibur.'
'Excalibur,' the knights all said together.
'I will take the bowl to my home in Dinas Maelor. I know the perfect place to keep it safe. The woodland of Nanteos borders my hill fort,' said Guinevere. 'And this hawthorn cutting. I can plant it in my new garden.'
'I didn't know Guinevere liked gardening,' Cashew whispered.
I pawed at Guinevere's feet to get her attention. I knew the perfect place to plant that tree.
But before I could squeal 'Parc Penglais', I felt a tug on my whiskers and the world darkened. Cavall at once nodded to me by Arthur's side.
'See you again, my friends,' Cavall said.
Then I was falling, flying, floating, plummeting through a forest. I woke with a start and looked around. I was back in the tree tunnel of Gogerddan Woods.
'I still don't get it,' said Cashew as we talked about our journey through time. 'We meet King Arthur in Roman times and he goes looking for the cup of eternal life before Medraut finds it first. But then after defeating Medraut, he chose to stay behind.'
'That's because he's a guardian of the Holy Grail,' said Labneh. 'He's a descendant of Joseph of Arimathea. Or at least related to him, and only his descendants can guard the cup.'
'But hundreds of years passed. Lots and lots of people must be their descendants,' said Acorn.
'I think that's the point,' I said as I made my cozy den for the sleepover. 'Arthur and Joseph of Arimathea had lots of descendants that traveled everywhere. That means their descendants still live today. And there are lots and lots of them. Which means … ?' I raised my brows at my siblings.
'What?' said Seitan.
'It means,' I laughed, giving them all a hug. 'That we are all the Holy Grail. There is a little bit of Arthur and Guinevere in all of us.'
The end.
The Ejaculator.
A rather large glacial erratic in the Don Valley that's been affectionately names the ejaculator by the local MBT community.
Toronto, Ontario
Olympus TG-4
Designed for stacking efficiently in docking stations the G1 is more often affectionately referred to as the 'brick'.
Rio Grande Southern Railroad (RGS), Motor Number 6 (affectionately nicknamed Galloping Goose Number 6) is a gasoline engine powered narrow gauge railroad motor car. The Galloping Goose body and chassis were built from a Buick automobile. The new Buick body was cut off behind the front seat and a new rear wall installed. The steering wheel was removed as it was not needed, but the other controls remained. The front axle was removed and replaced with a swiveling two axle lightweight railroad truck with sixteen inch diameter wheels that carried and guided the front of the Goose. Ahead of the front truck is the pilot (cow catcher) attached to the frame. Two small pivoted scrapers attached to the rear of the pilot slide on the rails to keep small objects on the track from derailing the lightweight front truck. During the winter season a small snow plow (now stored on the car's flatbed) was attached to the front of the pilot. The rear of the car frame was lengthened using steel channel riveted together but welded to the frame to carry the truck type flat-bed platform. The bed has short stake racks around the sides to keep materials from falling off. The Goose was originally powered by the 6-cylinder engine, clutch and transmission that came with the Buick. The drive chain powers the rear swiveling two axle truck assembly mounted under the rear frame and platform bed. The drive shaft turns only the forward axle. The rearmost axle is driven by roller chains and sprockets mounted outside of the wheels on each side. The rear truck has twenty four-inch diameter cast wheels. The braking is accomplished by brake shoes between the axles on each truck being pushed against the wheel treads. These are actuated by linkage connecting them to the normal foot pedal and parking brake lever. The foot brake is connected to the front truck and the parking brake lever is connected to the rear truck. Goose No. 6 received air brakes about 1939. The paint colors of Goose No. 6 early on is still an item of much discussion. Examination of the paint layers on the rear bed revealed only black and then aluminum that was used after 1935.
The Buick body on Goose No. 6 was replaced around 1942 with the body of a Pierce-Arrow automobile, probably a Pierce-Arrow Model 36. The Buick engine was also replaced with the Pierce-Arrow engine. Soon after a small box was attached behind and above the rear seat, probably to carry lunches and small tools. Around 1949 a second gas tank was placed on the cab roof. This was in addition to the other tank under the right front of the bed. Both tanks were hooked up to the engine. The automotive style marker lights were removed from the side of the cab and railroad style markers were placed on top of the cab at the outer edges. This is its current configuration as displayed at the Museum.
NRHP - 97000050
(Wikipedia)
I came home tonight and there were a couple of crows on my telephone wire making noise. I looked up and they were being affectionate to each other. I took a photo but it wasn't the best quality. I came back outside after dinner and having a shower and they were back together on the other side of the road still being affectionate with each other. I got a better photo but after I took their photo they flew away. It was really nice to see and made my evening a little bit more enjoyable.
A bulbous & bulky, yet surprisingly smooth racing spacecraft. Affectionately nicknamed "The Blue Barrel", the ship was essentially a pair of large ion drives, with their intakes dominating the facia and a small cockpit stuck on top. The designers eschewed greebles on the ship's skin, thereby reducing its drag as it ploughed through the aether.
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I made this to play with some ideas I had about hinging hatches and extendable landing gear. I prototyped the hatches in LDD, including a version with two hinging panels, which looked more interesting but didn't have space for the landing legs.
Background image found on Pinterest.
Australian Kelpie with a touch of labrador and vision problems, farm dog and family pet in Blayney, NSW, Australia.
The Westiepoo is a mixed breed dog — a cross between the West Highland White Terrier and Poodle dog breeds. Clever, active, and affectionate, these pups inherited some of the best qualities from both of their parents. Westiepoos are also sometimes known as Westiedoodles and Wee-Poos.
Here's a pre-dawn shot in of a mother and cub I ran across earlier this year. I've worked really hard to reduce then noise to a usable level because I love the moment between these two. I'm not sure I succeeded, but I still love the interaction.
Affectionately referred to as ‘The Head’, the bronze body part’s official title is ‘Eros Bendato’ (Eros Bound) and is the work of Polish artist Igor Mitoraj (1944 - 2014).
Reino Unido de Gran Bretaña - Escocia - Glasgow - Clyde Auditorium
ENGLISH
The Clyde Auditorium, familiarly known as "The Armadillo", is a concert venue and auditorium in Glasgow, Scotland. The building sits on the site of the now infilled Queen's Dock on the River Clyde, adjacent to the Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre.
Plans for a new building to increase the capacity of the SECC complex were initiated in 1995. Designed by award-winning architects Foster and Partners, the 3,000 seat venue was completed in 1997, by which time it had earned its affectionate nickname due to the similarity of its shape to that of the animal of the same name. Many comparisons have been made with the Sydney Opera House, although this was not the architects' inspiration for the design, which was in fact an interlocking series of ship's hulls, in reference to the Clyde's shipbuilding heritage.
The building has quickly become one of the most recognisable on Clydeside and one of the iconic images of modern Glasgow. Its success has led to the construction of a third venue on the complex, the Scottish Hydro Arena.
It is connected by passageways to the Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre, and the Crowne Plaza hotel for easy access and exit for high-profile performers.
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ESPAÑOL
El Auditorio Clyde, conocido coloquialmente como "El Armadillo", es una sala de conciertos situada en Glasgow, Escocia, Reino Unido. El edificio está ubicado en el Queen's Dock (Muelle de la Reina) en el Río Clyde, al lado del Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre (SECC).
El proyecto de un nuevo edificio para aumentar la capacidad del complejo SECC se inició en 1995. Diseñado por los célebres arquitectos Foster and Partners, esta sala de conciertos de 1100 asientos se completó en 1997, momento en el que se había ganado su apodo afectuoso debido a la semejanza de su forma con la de un armadillo. Se ha comparado muchas veces con la Ópera de Sídney, aunque los arquitectos no se inspiraron en ella para el diseño, que en realidad pretendía ser una serie de cascos de barcos entrelazados, en referencia a la tradición naval del Clyde.
El edificio se ha convertido rápidamente en uno de los más reconocibles de Clydeside y uno de los símbolos del Glasgow moderno. Su éxito ha provocado la construcción de un tercer edificio en el complejo, la Scottish Hydro Arena.
Está conectado al Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre y al hotel Crowne Plaza para facilitar el acceso y salida de los artistas de alto nivel.
Feisty, stubborn, independent, sweet, soft, gentle, spoiled, affectionate. "Girl Dog."
Autumn 2019.
Polaroid Originals I-Type Camera and BW film for 600.
Excerpt from en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mississauga_Library_System:
The Mississauga Central Library is located in the city centre at 301 Burnhamthorpe Road West, adjacent to the Mississauga Civic Centre. It is the largest branch of the Mississauga Library System, containing four floors of materials and a further floor for silent study, and has functioned as the main library for the system since its opening in 1991.
It was officially renamed to Hazel McCallion Central Library on 10 February 2021 (and affectionately nicknamed "Hazy Mac") in honour of the centennial birthday of the city's former mayor Hazel McCallion.
RT @SupportPets: Retweeted Ann (@gaviota330): t.co/CSOh3R5C0D KILL LIST YOUNG HANDSOME AFFECTIONATE HOUSETRAINED GENTLE... t.co/XtOIMxsugp (via Twitter twitter.com/Doggy_IQ/status/802314140584787972)
The Indiana Roof Ballroom, affectionately called the “Roof,” has been an important part of downtown Indianapolis since 1927 when it first opened it's doors. Located above the Indiana Repertory Theatre, it has hosted famous performers, big band dances, fundraisers, corporate parties, weddings and special events for nearly a century, and is considered one of the most historic venues in the entire Midwest.
Dreamed up in 1926 by Edgar O. Hunter and Preston Rubush, the Roof first opened in September of 1927. Designed to appear as if you were in a European village, no detail was forgotten. Painted grapevines creep up plaster columns and the stucco facades, doorways and balconies contain exquisite details and even the staircase railings have ornate woodwork. The domed ceiling resembles a starry night sky, with soft clouds and a crescent moon.
ndiana Repertory Theatre, frequently abbreviated IRT, is a professional regional theatre in Indianapolis, Indiana that began as a genuine repertory theatre with its casts performing in multiple shows at once. It has subsequently become a regional theatre and a member of the League of Resident Theatres. A standard season typically consists of nine or ten plays on two different stages (with at least two selected especially although not exclusively for student audiences, one of which is often a Shakespeare play) and the bulk of its season (including a holiday show, usually Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol) performed on the OneAmerica Stage.
The theatre company has history in two theatre buildings. It began in 1972 in The Athenaeum. In 1980, the IRT moved to its current home, The Indiana Theatre, a former Paramount Pictures Publix Theatre at 140 West Washington Street, built in 1927 and converted from a movie theater for IRT's
My somewhat clumsy yet affectionate tribute to Ursula Le Guin's beautiful novel and second entry to the Hammertime figbarf contest. I've done four of the main characters and two generic Gethenians. If anyone has read the book and has some advice of what I could improve please let know.
Estraven, Prime Minister of Karhide. One gets the sense of Estraven being someone who has much to say but feels that he cannot, so I tried to convey this by having his beard cover his mouth but retaining his expressive eyes.
Genly Ai, the Terran, sent to Gethen on a mission of first contact. He finds the extreme cold of the planet difficult to acclimatise to so I've got him pretty much bundled up in layers of clothing. Also he's taller than everyone on Gethen; the cold has given the local people shorter statures.
King Argaven, the paranoid ruler of Karhide. At the start of the novel, his is officially opening a new bridge, so I've decided to suggest some ceremonial attire of that occasion.
Faxe, a Foreteller of the Handdara. Faxe is described as being a very beautiful so I've attempted to suggest his calm and angelic demeanor. I struggled with his design the most.
A typical Gethenian out collecting seeds, he could be Goss whom Genly meets in his travels. He is wearing a thick pouch around his neck that he can pull over his head if he gets cold. Similarly, on his wrists he wears gloves that can be rolled back as need.
A guard of the Orgota, which is something of a Communist country and also trade partner of Karhide. He is holding a sonic gun, shield and is wearing an animal skin fur uniform.
The Argus C3, affectionately known as "The Brick," boasts a fascinating history. Introduced in 1939, it emerged as a symbol of reliability and simplicity in the realm of 35mm film cameras. Its robust design even earned it the moniker "The American Leica."
During World War II, the Argus C3 gained popularity among soldiers and war correspondents for its durability. Beyond its wartime significance, the Argus C3 continued to be a favored choice for amateur photographers post-war, selling a record-breaking 2.2 million units over 33 years of production. Its affordability and straightforward functionality made it accessible to a broad audience, solidifying its status as one of the most popular American cameras in history, a distinction it maintains even today.
The camera's unique design and its substantial contribution to photography cement its place as a noteworthy artifact in the evolution of film cameras.
Website: www.sollows.ca
Contact and links: linktr.ee/jsollows
Sturdy and fun loving, the Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier dog breed is a friend to one and all. They’re relatively easygoing for a terrier, need a moderate amount of exercise, and can make a great family dog. These affectionate pups love just about everybody they meet. They’re even good for first-time pet parents and apartment dwellers. But beware: that soft, silky coat needs a lot of grooming, and the Wheaten can occasionally be hard headed when it comes to training.
A quiet, affectionate domestic moment: a young woman in a white ribbed string-strap tank top shares a playful scene with her tomcat, gently holding his front paws as he rises up like a little gentleman. The warm light, the soft interior, and the calm intimacy of the room give the image a feeling of tenderness, ease, and everyday happiness.
What I especially like here is the combination of tactile simplicity and emotional warmth: the ribbed cotton top, the cozy apartment setting, and the cat’s self-possessed charm all work together to create a scene that feels both fictional and deeply familiar.
AI disclosure:
AI-generated image, created as a fictional domestic portrait scene. It is intended as an atmospheric interpretation, not a documentary photograph of a real person or place.
Affectionately Known As The Masked Bandit!!
Nikon D500, Nikon 500mm afs vr + Nikon 1.4 t/c.
Lodmore, Weymouth Dorset.
A Rare Visitor To The U.K. From Central Europe.
The Old English Sheepdog is a large, athletic dog breed with an unmistakable shaggy coat. The OES, as fans call the breed for short, was historically a drover, helping farmers drive cattle and sheep to the market. Today, this good-natured dog enjoys the comfort of home life and still competes in conformation, obedience, agility, and herding trials. The Old English Sheepdog is a playful, affectionate clown who delights in frolicking with his family and neighborhood children.