Happy 250th, Wolfgang!
W.A. Mozart
Jan 27, 1756 – Dec 5, 1791
My first thought was, "That's not a food item; that's a medical condition." It's worth noting that the Spotted Dick is right beside the Tripe, and that the two cans are virtually indistinguishable.
Spotted Dick, as it turns out, is a pudding desert that is somewhat popular in the UK, though its name has occasionally caused embarrassment.
I'm still not gonna eat it.
After spending so much time in the dark, it's nice to see light again.
Winter is hard. It's even harder if you're one of the thousands, maybe millions, of people who have SAD. (What a cute name for a form of depression, eh?)
For six months out of the year, we live like vampires: going to work when it's dark, spending the daylight hours in windowless offices, then returning home in the dark. Weekends are the only time we see the sun, and we spend most of that time either asleep or crashed on the couch because we can't motivate ourselves to do anything.
I get by with a set of 5500k daylight-replicating tubes in the light fixture at work, and a bunch of vitamins. Massive doses of B12. Sometimes I venture into the night with my camera and try to find some color. Sometimes I just shoot something that visually echoes my mood. Finding a way to make the darkness give something to you helps a lot.
Still, it's nice to step outside in the morning and see the underbellies of the clouds aflame with the rising sun.