All this driving

Dan made a really good point, about life in the mountains. We shamefully discussed this. Perhaps, we pondered, it's a habitat that doesn't welcome human occupation. Blowing holes in mountains to enable roads, with every house hosting wasteful underfloor heating, and vast chair lift constructions pounding out power to hoist up thousands of people each chasing their pisted pursuits, for them to then ricquoshade down at crippling speeds causing continuous waves of avalanches. Then there's the choppering of food + luxury supplies to the peaks for people to splurge ten euros on a can of pop + the panting lorries huffing + puffing their way up unnaturally steep + unforgiving mountain roads to feed the people at the top. But the part we're struggling with the most, amongst all of the other ethically crippling observations, is the fact that we pretty much have to drive : everywhere. . . I would imagine anyone who knows me, who reads this, will appreciate the predicament that I've found myself to be in. We went out with our boss, who began the day by saying , in not so many words, do not fuck with my vans [absolutely fair enough, as every season there seems to surface a tale culminating in great expense]. So we each had to do a stint behind the wheel. When my spell on slippy vertical roads was over, he simply said "your driving scared me".

But the nice thing about cars, on a more positive note, is that they look really pretty with all the icicles on them.

The days are 16 hours long, and we are all exhausted. Today we collapse at home + watch something for the first time in a tremendously long time. Human Planet : excellent watching. And then drift into a motionless, dreamless, coma copied sleep.