View allAll Photos Tagged matchmaker
Get ready! Cupid is headed your way…
Skippy wears the following fresh new styles,
all available at The Men's Dept. (TMD):
Complex's Glacier Jacket!
Semller's Nubuck Boots!
Rebellion's "Khronos" Cuff Watch!
Sorgo's OX Shades!
The little matchmaker also wears Remarkable Oblivion's Eternity Wings!
Skippy envisioned his universe with the help of the following cool creations:
Bueno's Le Happy Building!
Bueno's Mulder Loft Building, City Block, NightSpot Loft Building, and Street Light!
Serenity Style's Skippy Scooter!
Pucca Firecaster Creation's Silent Death Quiver!
The Forge/EZ's Guilded Bow of Jie!
Happy (early) Valentine's Day, everyone!
Keep spreading the love, and keep shining bright!
Macro Mondays theme: Matchstick
Thanks to everyone who took the time to view, comment, and fave my photo. It’s really appreciated. 😊
The Snappy Lunch was opened in 1923 by George Roberson and Deuce Hodge in the very location you now see in the photograph above. Shortly after opening Mr. Hodge was persuaded to sell his interest in The Snappy Lunch to Ben Edwards who later sold this same interest to Raymond Hemrick. In 1943, a young man named Charles Dowell began working at The Snappy Lunch doing odd jobs and learning the business. He was compensated the whopping sum of $10 per week. Eight years later, Charles negotiated to purchase Mr. Roberson’s share of The Snappy Lunch and began his career as a local business owner. During those days, The Snappy Lunch catered to local workers and students who enjoyed bologna sandwiches for 5¢ and 10¢ hot dogs items that remain on the menu today. Students, like now famous Andy Griffith who attended nearby schools, would frequently visit the Snappy Lunch for a quick lunch because the local schools had yet to add cafeterias. In 1960, Charles Dowell completed his transition to sole owner of The Snappy Lunch by purchasing Raymond Hemrick’s share of the diner. As the sole owner Charles had more freedom to develop his own recipes and try different combinations of seasonings.
As most know, Mt. Airy’s own Andy Griffith went on to quite a career in television first starring on The Andy Griffith Show. In an early episode entitled “Andy the Matchmaker” Andy suggests to Barney that they go down to the Snappy Lunch to get a bite to eat. Because of this The Snappy Lunch is credited as the only existing Mt. Airy business mentioned on the television show. Andy also mentioned The Snappy Lunch in his version of the song “Silhouettes” recorded around that same time. More recently, during a televised interview, Andy talked about getting a hot dog and bottle of pop at The Snappy Lunch when he was a young boy. Also during this time Charles Dowell began to perfect his unique creation, The World Famous Pork Chop Sandwich. This wonderfully messy sandwich, served in so many variety of ways, has become the trademark meal of choice for locals and visitors alike. It’s a must for any one visiting The Snappy Lunch for the first time. It is the only sandwich that may have you washing your hands AFTER you finish eating it.
Since the 1960’s The Snappy Lunch has been the subject of numerous news articles, television stories and national reviews. Celebrities are regularly fake rolex seen visiting The Snappy Lunch to have their picture taken with Charles, share in the ambiance of the busy diner and/or just to enjoy a “World Famous Pork Chop Sandwich” of their own.
www.visitmayberry.com/attractions/snappy-lunch/
Three bracketed photos were taken with a handheld Nikon D7200 and combined with Photomatix Pro to create this HDR image. Additional adjustments were made in Photoshop CS6.
"For I know the plans I have for you", declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." --Jeremiah 29:11
The best way to view my photostream is through Flickriver with the following link: www.flickriver.com/photos/photojourney57/
Flickr Friday theme: Match
Thanks to everyone who took the time to view, comment, and fave my photo. It’s really appreciated. 😊
"When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire."
Smouldering Waltz: Stars - Your Ex-Lover Is Dead
Matchmaker, matchmaker
Make me a match
D832 'Onslaught' looks the part paired up with the full rake of blue & greys, as she works up the gradient at Heap Bridge with the 09.45 Bury - Heywood.
Sat 13th September 2025, day 1 of the East Lancs Railway Rail 200 event.
A combo model of Sidorak and Krekka. More photos can be found below:
board.ttvchannel.com/t/wresorak-the-matchmaker-of-stelt-s...
Wresorak, the Matchmaker of Stelt. So called as it is he who arranges and sets up most of the gladiatorial fights on Stelt. Tired of the constant in-fighting, Wresorak figured he would at least make some money and get entertainment by organizing these fight pits and swiftly grew into the largest ring on the island. Unfortunately for the clan leader, one of Wresorak’s best fighters became too enthralled in one match and ripped his arm off, killed all his guards, destroyed the arena, and eventually took most of the island to stop. Only for the Dark Hunters to steal his prized fighter. After getting his arm replaced, Wresorak swore payback on the Dark Hunters and would make a point to capture and enslave any hunters that came to the island.
Aside from these weak Dark Hunters, Wresorak and his underlings would often take advantage of refugees fleeing from Visorak conquered islands. Enslaving them and forcing them into his fighting pits. Even going to other islands on occasion to offer marriages and other alliances, only to take them as new slaves to die in the ring.
Until Wresorak finally met his end by the hands of the old prized fighter. The Shadowed One had enough of his antics and gave Gladiator a bonus objective while he investigated Stelt for the Visorak rumors. And just like in the arena, no mercy was given.
Before his death, Wresorak possessed the Enragement Rhotuka. It filled the target with blinding rage towards a specific being, forcing them to fight to the death. Only wearing off from pure exhaustion or being knocked out. His robotic claw could be fired at foes as a makeshift harpoon and had a Kanoka Launcher that was usually armed with Reconstitute at Random disks. His eyes were modified with special lenses that allowed him to see the strength of a creature/being, their weak points, and fighting skills.
Inspired by the song - "Matchmaker, Matchmaker, make me a match!" from the musical and the film "Fiddler on the Roof"!
There are many small shrines while walking the Fushimi Inari Shrine or Inari-yama. The whole mountain is dedicated to the god of Rice or Kuchiire Inari Ookami (Inari). Inari is said to play a coordinating role between various people since ancient times whether it be matchmaking, recruitment, finding employment, etc.
The fox is considered the messenger of Inari and for a good relationship, one should make a prayer to a set of three hand-painted, ceramic, kuchi-ire-ningyo dolls in the form of foxes clad in traditional robes. One should then take the trio home and worship them until your prayer is answered. Many people return them to the shrine on a successful outcome.
The set of fox messengers consists of a female and male fox (both seated) and a lantern bearer standing between them - symbolising the Matchmaker.
The whole surface of this little shrine was covered in serried rows of fox dolls of various ages. The Matchmaker is about 120mm tall.
Fuji X-H1, Samyang 12/2 NCS CS, 1/1500th sec at f/2, ISO 200
A nice demonstration of how close the Samyang 12/2 can get.
Miss Agnes never married herself, but she has brought together hundreds of couples that otherwise would have never found each other.
Matchmaker = Casamentero
marriages are made in heaven… but the most people meet in Matchmaker Bar = los matrimonios se hacen en el cielo...pero la mayoría de la gente se conoce en Matchmaker Bar
En septiembre de cada año tiene lugar uno de los acontecimientos casamenteros más grandes de Europa, atrayendo a 40.000 personas. Dura un mes y es una importante atracción turística. El actual casamentero es Willie Daly, un casamentero de cuarta generación.
Dicho festival ha alcanzado una fama considerable, pues se trata del más importante de Europa para buscar pareja. Año tras año, miles de solteros y solteras de todo el mundo visitan Lisdoonvarna en busca del amor. El festival goza de gran popularidad entre las solteras estadounidenses y la proporción de viudos/as y divorciados/as que visita el festival aumenta cada año.
El origen del festival se remonta a una tradición de hace 150 años. En la época, se hacían coincidir las fechas de dicha fiesta con los días de mercado, cuando la ciudad se llenaba de granjeros de todas las partes del país, solteros y en edad de casarse.
Foto tomada en Lisdoonvarna (Condado de Clare, Irlanda). 28-07-2004.
2 matchmakers. Not identical but both equally delicious. A perfect match. These are salted caramel. I highly recommend!
MATCHMAKER, Introduced in 1986. Lovely 4" white blooms edged with bright fuchsia. This really is an eye catcher in the field. Bush grows 4'. Late bloomer. This beauty was taken at "Garden by The Sea" in Fort Bragg.
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 is Tuesday and we are in the kitchen of Lettice’s flat: Edith her maid’s preserve, except on Tuesdays, every third Thursday of the month and occasionally after a big party. That is when Mrs. Boothby, Lettice’s charwoman*, comes from her home in Poplar to do all the hard jobs and Edith shares the space with her. Although this can be a bit of challenge, especially as Mrs. Boothby likes to smoke indoors, Edith is grateful that unlike her previous positions, she does not have to scrub the black and quite chequered kitchen linoleum, nor polish the parquetry floors, not do her most hated job, black lead the stovetop. Mrs. Boothby does them all without complaint, with reliability and to a very high standard. She is also very handy on cleaning and washing up duty with Edith after one of Lettice’s extravagant cocktail parties. Edith also has to admit that after her original reluctance, Mrs. Boothby has turned out to be rather pleasant company and the two have had many fine chats over time.
“Oh Mrs. Boothby, after you’ve finished polishing the floors in the drawing room this morning, would you mind laying down this sheet on the space behind Miss Lettice’s chair and the Chinese screen?” Edith pushes a neatly folded white sheet across the kitchen table to the old char.
“Why ‘ave I got to put dahn an old sheet for?” She looks perplexed at the pile of fabric before her. “Don’t Miss Chetwynd ‘ave enough rugs?”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Boothby.” Edith trys somewhat unsuccessfully to cover her amused smile. “It isn’t for that.”
“Then what’s it for, if you don’t mind me askin’?”
“It’s a drop sheet, Mrs. Boothby.” Edith elucidates.
“Oh. She getting’ painters in then? I bet I could find her cheaper ‘ouse painters than ooever she got. My Bruvver does a bit a ‘ouse paintin’, an I reckon ‘e does a very fine job ‘n all.”
“Oh no, Mrs. Boothby. Miss Lettice is going to paint a table today.”
“Paint a table?” The old woman looks queryingly at her younger counterpart. “Why? Ain’t it any good as is?”
“Apparently not, Mrs. Boothby. However, it isn’t for her. It’s for Miss de Virre, I mean, Mrs. Channon. It’s a table from her house in Cornwall.”
“Tartin’ up tables!” The old cockney woman tuts as she casts her eyes to the ceiling. “What them rich fancy folk won’t fink up next. I just throw an oilcloth over my table when I got friends comin’ for tea. That covers up the marks good and proper.”
“Oh no, Mrs. Boothby.” Edith explains. “Miss Lettice is going to redecorate it as part of her re-design of Mrs. Channon’s drawing room.”
“Well,” grumbles the old woman. “Whatever she’s doin’ it for, I hope she don’t get paint on my nice clean polished floors.”
“That’s what the drop sheet is for, Mrs. Boothby.”
“Ere dearie, pop the kettle on so as we can ‘ave a nice cup of Rosie-Lee** before I get started on the floors.” Mrs. Boothby says to Edith. “Washin’ floors can be firsty work for a woman, so best I get a cuppa before I start.”
“Yes, Mrs. Boothby.” Edith replies, lighting the gas ring underneath the bright copper kettle and walking over to the pine dresser to fetch two Delftware cups, saucers a milk jug and the sugar bowl.
Mrs. Boothby groans as she bends her wiry body to the floor to check what she calls her ‘Boothby boxes’, which are two boxes kept in the corner of the kitchen next to the dresser. One contains her scrubbing brushes, dustpan, and polishing rags, whilst the other contains a plethora of cleaning products.
“Ah,” the old Cockney woman mutters as she delves through the latter, metal cans clunking against one another as she does her inventory. “Pop Vim on the shopping list, will you Edith love. This can’s all but empty nah.” She continues fossicking. “Oh, and we need some more floor polish too.”
“Do you like that Kleen-eze Mr. Willison sent me last time, Mrs. Boothby?” Edith asks as she lays out the tea things on the deal kitchen table above the char’s head.
“It weren’t bad stuff, that. Yeah, ta. Get ‘him to get us some more of it if ‘e can.” The old woman affirms.
“I’ll see if Frank can get me some,” Edith says blithely, yet as soon as the words are out of her mouth, she realises her mistake as a frisson of energy electrifies the kitchen.
Edith likes Mrs. Boothby, but she knows that any news will soon be spread around Poplar and the surrounding area once Mrs. Boothby hears it. She and the other charwomen she knows run a very well informed gossip chain, and there is little Mrs. Boothby can’t tell Edith about the comings and goings on in the household of her former employer Mrs. Plaistow, thanks to her charwoman friend Jackie who does work for her and quite a few other houses in Pimlico, including that of Lettice’s former client, successful Islington Studios*** actress, Wanetta Ward. Edith, who is a little starstruck by the glamourous American, often gets tasty titbits of gossip about her from Mrs. Boothby thanks to Jackie who also cleans for her, however Edith does not fancy the shoe being on the other foot. However, as she turns back from fussing unnecessarily over the kettle, she sees it is too late. Mrs. Boothby’s pale and wrinkled face, framed by her wiry grey hair tied up in a brightly coloured scarf is paying close attention to the young maid. Her dark eyes are gleaming with delight, and she smiles like the cat who ate the cream.
“Oh!” she says with one of her bushy eyebrows arching upwards. “Frank now, is it?”
“Well I…” Edith stutters, her own pale cheeks growing warm as a blush fills them with colour.
“Yes my girl?” Mrs, Boothby asks, as with another groan she resumes her upright state. “And just when did Mr. Willison’s young delivery boy go from bein’ Mr. Leadbeater or bein’ Frank? Last I ‘eard, you weren’t interested in ‘im.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested in him, Mrs. Boothby,” Edith worries the blue rimmed edge of a saucer self-consciously. “I’d just never considered him as a prospect, is all. And I hadn’t Mrs. Boothby. Not until,”
“Yes,”
“Well, not until you’d mentioned it, Mrs. Boothby.”
“Aha!” the old cockney woman crows. “Ada Boothby does it again!”
“Does what, Mrs. Boothby?” Edith asks.
“Matchmakes, of course.” She smiles broadly, a glow of pride emanating from her slender figure in her grey dress and brightly printed cotton pinny. She rubs her careworn hands together with glee. “Oh I can’t wait to tell that damned Golda Friedmann dahn the end of my rookery****. She’ll be fit to be tied.”
“Wait!” Edith gasps, not understanding. “Who’s Golda Friedmann, and how she know about Frank and I? I don’t know her. She doesn’t work in the haberdashers in Poplar you sent me to.”
“Oh Lawd love you,” chortles Mrs. Boothby, the action resulting on one of her fruity hacking coughs that seem remarkably loud from such a diminutive figure. After catching her breath, she continues breathily, “She don’t know anyfink about you an’ your Frank.” She gulps again. “Nah! She’s the local matchmaker round our way, along with a few other Yids***** in Poplar. Goes around wiv ‘er nose in the air wrapped up in a fancy paisley shawl tellin’ folk she’s the one to match their son or daughter, like she was the Queen of Russia ‘erself.”
“Well she didn’t match me with Frank.” Edith says defensively.
“I know, Edith love.” Mrs. Boothby assures her with a calming wave of her hands.
“And nor did you, Mrs. Boothby,” Edith continues. “So I don’t see why you should feel so proud of yourself.”
“But you just said that if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t of considered ‘im!”
“Well,” Edith takes the kettle off the stove and pours hot water into the white teapot. “That’s true, but I’m the one that mentioned what you’d said to me about he and I on the night of Miss Lettice’s supper party for Mr. Channon and Miss de Virre.” She puts the lid on the pot with a clunk. “Err, I mean Mrs. Channon.”
Mrs. Boothby drags up a chair to the deal kitchen table and takes a seat, never taking her eyes off Edith’s face. “So ahh, when did you and Mr. Leadbeater, or should I say Frank, start, walkin’ out togevva?” She walks her index and middle finger across the clean table in front of her, as if to demonstrate her meaning.
“Only a few weeks now.” Edith admits with downcast eyes and a shy smile.
“A few weeks?” Mrs. Boothby gasps in outrage. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I guess it just slipped my mind, Mrs. Boothby.” Edith defends herself, setting out the tea cups in the saucers, pushing one across to the charwoman. “What with one thing an another. Besides,” she adds. “I didn’t want to tell you unless I was sure. I wouldn’t want to go disappointing you if it all came to aught.”
“But nah fings is workin’ out for the two of you then?” Mrs. Boothby asks as she accepts the cup and saucer and reaches for the milk jug, slopping a good glug into the bottom of her empty cup******.
“We seem to have struck a nice rhythm, and Frank and I have a lot in common.”
“Oh that’s lovely to ‘ear, dearie.” the old woman watches as Edith pours tea into her cup. “I told you, youse was pretty, didn’t I?” She takes hold of the sugar bowl and greedily spoons in several heaped teaspoons of fine white sugar into her tea before stirring it loudly. “And you never knew ‘till I told you. So where’ve you been goin’? The ‘Ammersmith Palais*******?”
“Yes, we’ve been there a few times, along with my friend Hilda.”
“She’s the parlour maid from your Mrs. Plaistow’s isn’t she?” Mrs. Boothby asks, before adding unnecessarily, “The plain one.”
“Oh I wouldn’t call her plain, Mrs. Boothby!” Edith defends her friend hotly as she pours tea into her own empty cup, before then adding a dash of milk. “That’s most uncharitable.”
“I didn’t say that, Jackie told me when I mentioned to ‘er that you was still friends wiv ‘er from when you worked there togevva.”
“Oh yes, I remember Jackie,” Edith picks up her cup and sips her tea. “Always with an ear out for gossip.”
“We chars ‘ave to take our pleasures where we can get ‘em, dearie.” Mrs. Boothby says with a slightly haughty tone as she slurps her own tea loudly. “Bein’ a char is ‘ard graft day in, day out. And you can ‘ardly take the moral ‘ighground, what wiv you askin’ me about the goings on at Miss Ward’s, nah can you?”
Edith, suitably chastened, remains silent, her lack of response serving as an affirmation of the old Cockney’s statement.
“Anyway, I might never ‘ave met your ‘Ilda, but I bet she’s not a patch on you deary, what wiv your peaches n’ cream complexion and beautiful hair. What you got natural from God, so many women I know get from lotions and potions. Nah wonder Frank was nervous ‘bout askin’ you to step out wiv ‘im. Youse a real catch Edith love.”
“I never said he was nervous, Mrs. Boothby.” Edith giggles.
“But ‘e were, weren’t ‘e?” The old woman chuckles knowingly as she cradles her warm cup in both her hands. “All little boys what fink they’re big men, get nervous round a pretty girl.”
“Well,” Edith admits. “Maybe just a little.” Then she adds, “But I was nervous too.”
“Well, that’s nice, dearie. Youse just enjoy bein’ young an’ ‘appy togevva.” The old woman gazes into the distance, a far away look sodtening the sharpness of her gaze and the squareness of her jaw as her mouth hangs open slightly. She stays that way for a moment or two before she regains her steely composure and sharp look. Turning back to Edith she says, “Nah, ‘ow does this sound, Edith love? Mrs. Ada Boothby, Matchmaker and ‘Igh Class Char? That would shove it right up that uppity Golda Friedmann and ‘er matchmaker friends!”
“Oh Mrs. Boothy!” Edith giggles.
*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.
**Rosie-Lee is Cockney slang for tea, and it is one of the most well-known of all Cockney rhyming slang.
***Islington Studios, often known as Gainsborough Studios, were a British film studio located on the south bank of the Regent's Canal, in Poole Street, Hoxton in Shoreditch, London which began operation in 1919. By 1920 they had a two stage studio. It is here that Alfred Hitchcock made his entrée into films.
****A rookery is a dense collection of housing, especially in a slum area. The rookeries created in Victorian times in London’s East End were notorious for their cheapness, filth and for being overcrowded.
*****The word Yid is a Jewish ethnonym of Yiddish origin. It is used as an autonym within the Ashkenazi Jewish community, and also used as slang. When pronounced in such a way that it rhymes with did by non-Jews, it is commonly intended as a pejorative term. It is used as a derogatory epithet, and as an alternative to, the English word 'Jew'. It is uncertain when the word began to be used in a pejorative sense by non-Jews, but some believe it started in the late Nineteenth or early Twentieth Century when there was a large population of Jews and Yiddish speakers concentrated in East London, gaining popularity in the 1930s when Oswald Mosley developed a strong following in the East End of London.
******In the class-conscious society of Britain in the 1920s, whether you added milk to your cup of tea first or the tea was a subtle way of defining what class you came from. Upper-class people, or those who wished to ape their social betters added milk after the tea, whereas middle-class or working class people comfortable in their own skins were known to add milk before the tea.
*******The Hammersmith Palais de Danse, in its last years simply named Hammersmith Palais, was a dance hall and entertainment venue in Hammersmith, London, England that operated from 1919 until 2007. It was the first palais de danse to be built in Britain.
This busy domestic kitchen scene is a little different to what you might think, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures from my miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
In front of Mrs. Boothby’s box is a can of Vim with stylised Art Deco packaging and some Kleeneze floor polish. Vim was a common cleaning agent, used in any Edwardian household. Vim scouring powder was created by William Hesketh Lever (1st Viscount Leverhulme) and introduced to the market in 1904. It was produced at Port Sunlight in Wirrel, Merseyside, a model village built by Lever Brothers for the workers of their factories which produced the popular soap brands Lux, Lifebuoy and Sunlight. Kleeneze is a homeware company started in Hanham, Bristol. The company's founder, Harry Crook, had emigrated to the United States with his family several years earlier, and whilst there joined Fuller Brush as a sales representative. He returned to Bristol several years later, and started a business making brushes and floor polish which were sold door-to-door by salesmen. Technically Kleeneze didn’t start until 1923, which is one years after this story is set. I couldn’t resist including it, as I doubt I will ever be able to photograph it as a main part of any other tableaux. Thus, I hope you will forgive me for this indulgence.
In the box are two containers of Zebo grate polish, a bottle of Bluebell Metal Polish and a can of Brasso. Zebo (or originally Zebra) Grate Polish was a substance launched in 1890 by Reckitts to polish the grate to a gleam using a mixture that consisted of pure black graphite finely ground, carbon black, a binding agent and a solvent to keep it fluid for application with a cloth or more commonly newspaper. Brasso Metal Polish is a British all-purpose metal cleaning product introduced to market in 1905 by Reckitt and Sons, who also produced Silvo, which was used specifically for cleaning silver, silver plate and EPNS. Bluebell metal cleaning products were a household name in the 1920s and 1930s after the business was incorporated in 1900.
The tin buckets, wooden apple box, basket, mop, brush and pan are all artisan made miniatures that I have acquired in more recent years.
This is for the most inspiring couple i have ever met.. Joel and Casey Johnson. Joel was one of the speakers at Acquire the Fire and he was just amazing. Joel and Casey wrote a book together called The Divine Matchmaker . You should all go check it out. I have only read like half of it and i love it so much. Joel and Casey have the most inspiring relationship. God is the true matchmaker. =)
Hmm.. i took this picture a long time ago.. i don’t really like the actual picture that much, but i love the idea.. =P
I tried to make her hair more similar to the style during the "Honor to us All" and Matchmaker scene.
The matchmaker .. my name is not Wendy . Well I know you as Wendy .. she goes under another name now . I have known her for years through another industry , Not matchmaking or anything to do with with it . Steve this girl is nice , you would like her .. whats your phone number now .. Leave it Wendy . I'am Not going there . I get it all the time , women desperate to be connected .. No I'am Not interested . Sorry !
City Brisbane
J'ai vu une couple de dindons sauvages en faisant cette photo. IL y a 20 ans, on en voyait pas au Québec. C'est peut être à cause du réchauffement climatique. J'ai peur que dans 30 ans..on se ramasse avec des alligators, aha.
When i made this photo, i saw a couple of wild turkeys. 20 years ago, we didn't see wild turkeys in Québec. Maybe because of global warming. I'm afraid, one day, in the future, we will see animals from the south, like alligators..grr aha
Model: Liilii
According to a Chinese legned, a lunar matchmaker tie an invisible red string around the ankles of men and women who are destined to be soul mates and will one day marry each other.
However...is such destiny a bless? or a curse?
I decided to unbox this doll at last. Her outfit would need some improvments here and there but she's a fairly nicely done doll. I really like her face.
Okay. This photo is 'audience participation time.' You get to find the matches! I'll give you a starter: Fred and Wilma Flintstone. You may not be able to 'name' them as they are Lego generic people, but you could say surfer boy and, well, you'll have to find his match!
Good luck. How many can you find? The one who finds them all will receive the coveted "100% Full Credit No-Prize Award" offered frequently here on this photostream.
20200831 244/366
AND: 2/3 of the year is pasted! 1/3 to go! Woohoo!
___________
August 31 Is National Matchmaker Day
On August 31st, National Matchmaker Day honors romantics whose dauntless pursuit of perfect purchase for cupid’s arrow results in lasting love stories.
Playing matchmaker requires a bit of social savvy. It also requires the ability to listen and timing. They know each friends’ habits (good and bad), passions, and hobbies. When there is a spark, even when the prospective couple is painfully unaware, the matchmaker knows.
While a matchmaker isn’t always successful, her (or his) heart is certainly in the right place! It is all about love, after all. Even the success stories can be quite entertaining. And National Matchmaker Day celebrates them all. Awkward blind dates. Miscommunications. And yes, even the complete mismatches. The celebration raises a toast to the people who bring lovers together.
HOW TO OBSERVE #NationalMatchmakerDay
Honor those special matchmakers who work to bring couples together. Some of the best ways to celebrate the day include:
Send your matchmaker a thank you note.
Give them a shout out on social media.
Take out the photo album and relive the memories.
Most importantly, share your matchmaker story!
And remember: Matchmaking is not all about marriage. It’s matching Friends to Friends as well!
When I was very young and I had just started playing with Barbie dolls, I was most enthusiastic about dolls produced for Disney movies. I suppose I've always enjoyed dolls based on characters, films, or celebrities because I like that they have "identities" even if I always changed them. Every time a Disney movie came out, I HAD to get a doll from it. Even if I had never seen the film, even if I didn't want to see the film, I NEEDED the doll. I remember pining for Megara for years, since I wasn't able to purchase her in stores. I spent the entire summer of 2000 daydreaming about Jane from Tarzan (I ended up getting her that summer). Mom picked out the Hearts of Honor Mulan dolls and Real Riding Khan horse as Christmas gifts for me one year, even though I'm pretty sure I hadn't seen the movie. I chose the Ariel on the left as my sixth birthday present even though I know for a one hundred percent fact that it took me years to actually watch the movie. I was completely enamored by Gypsy Dancing Esmeralda the moment I laid eyes on her while shoe shopping at Kmart (I believe) with my mom and sister. But most of all, I recall with great clarity all the Pocahontas dolls and fashion packs we had laying around the house, and even the handmade tepees Dad designed for them--mine was white, whereas Colleen's was brown. It's funny because the dolls that survived don't even represent all the many Pocahontas dolls Colleen and I had over the years. We each had brand new Sun Colors Pocahontas and Nakoma dolls. I also had store bought Kocoum and John Smith dolls (who I bought with my allowance and I greatly preferred over the girl dolls). But like with many of our earliest childhood dolls, they all met a tragic fate--decapitation or amputation by guinea pigs. To put it nicely, the were bio hazardous, which is why we no longer own them.
Dolls in photo from left to right:
-1991 Disney Classics Cinderella; 1995 The Hunchback of Notre Dame Esmeralda; 1995 Gypsy Dancing Esmeralda; 1997 Princess Mermaid Ariel X2; 1997 Hearts of Honor Mulan; 1997 Secret Hero Mulan; 1997 Matchmaker Magic Mulan; 1997 Hearts of Honor Li Shang; 1996 Fashion Secrets Megara
Front row:
-1995 Perfume Princess Collection Gift Set Cinderella; 1995 Perfume Princess Collection Gift Set Snow White; 1994 Musical Princess Collection Aurora; 1995 Perfume Princess Collection Gift Set Aurora; 1995 Sun Colors Pocahontas; 1995 Shining Braids Pocahontas; 1999 My Favorite Fairytale Collection Pocahontas; 1995 Sun Colors Nakoma; 1999 Tarzan Jane
191 - Our Daily Challenge - Humor:
Yes, I am easily entertained. We like to dress KC up in her babushka and sing "Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match" (Fiddler on the Roof). All I could find today was a western bandana...lol. Link to the original song:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=59Hj7bp38f8
BTW, my PUSH photo for next week is a high contrast b/w portrait of KC. Hmmmm...I'm already in the dog house for this one. Wonder how many days it will be before I can approach her with the camera again. :) i hate that I cut her paws out of the frame, but...there's only so much you can do when you're shaking the food dish with one hand and shooting with other. I was lucky to catch the light! You can tell by her whiskers that she's barely tolerating the indignity. She looks like a seal! :)
Nikon D5000, 50mm
Hanna Beth swept the room in a low-cut teal satin blouse. The slinky fabric clung to her curves like it had chosen her, flowing over her breasts in a way that seemed to make men forget their wives and women forget their caution. Each movement made the blouse ripple and shimmer, the folds rearranging like a lover’s hand searching for her nipples.
Hanna Beth wasn’t here to find love; she was the hostess... The smiling face of a high-end matchmaking service for billionaires, but matchmaking was just a facade. The reality?... Strategic pairings for corporate blackmail. She engineered connections that could merge companies, destroy careers, sway government votes… or break a person’s life into neatly exploitable assets.
And the blouse was bait.
They came to her: bored men with restless eyes, desperate women with restless ambitions who hadn't been laid in months, maybe years. They leaned in, offering drinks and secrets in equal measure. She listened, she smiled, and she filed each whisper away.
Across the room, she spotted Robert Ashcroft, the oil magnate who had devoured two competitors in eighteen months. He was already deep in conversation with a flame-haired pharmaceutical heiress. Hanna Beth’s lips curved; if she played it right, that pairing was worth tens of millions. All she’d had to do was make sure they ended up in bed together in one of her private rooms.
Not every match she made was for profit. Some were for destruction.
Julian Kane, a tech CEO with a taste for attractive married women, was seated next to Lydia Collins, the sex-starved wife of a political lobbyist whose loyalty was crucial to an upcoming deal. As Hanna Beth passed, she adjusted her blouse so it gaped a little wider, just enough for Julian’s gaze to follow the plunge of satin. Lydia noticed... Oh, she noticed. How could she not?... The blouse shimmered like something dangerous, catching stray glances and holding them hostage. Every lingering look stoked jealousy, and the women would do anything... anything... to keep the men's focus on them. That was all part of the plan, because jealous women made careless choices, and careless choices revealed valuable information...
Upstairs, in the private bedrooms, with hidden cameras in every corner, capturing every angle, the real games played out. Champagne in crystal flutes, low music humming through the air, silk cushions scattered like temptation itself… Executives disappeared behind locked doors in pairs, sometimes trios, emerging later with flushed faces, dishevelled clothing and hair, and debts they didn’t yet understand. The cameras caught everything: the flash of silky French knickers as skirts were pulled up, the shimmer of satin camisoles sliding off shoulders as bodices fell, the curve of bare breasts tumbling free. Each image was another piece of leverage, filed away for future use.
By midnight, three contracts would be signed, two affairs would begin, and one career would quietly end.
And Hanna Beth? She would leave with every name, every secret, every weakness, gathered like jewels in the folds of the most dangerous weapon she owned... That low-cut teal satin blouse.