I'm not convinced that giggles are the sanest reaction to waking up in an ice cave

But it's so pretty (when I scrape the frost of the wihdows to look) and my duvet is so warm, I just can't help myself.

Perhaps I should be humming the theme from dr. Zhivago instead - you know, the frozen dacha?

Anyway, I woke up with one of the solutions to "the writing problem", so high spirits as permissable. "Sleep on it" is often the best advice. After all the story srarted as a dream, many years ago.

I'm about to hike cross-country to catch the bus to town. I day of shops and coffee and people and library is just what I need.