My attempts to get warm are not going well. I have just killed a hotwater bottle - Mum's actually. Oops. The wretched thing leaked. All over my couch. Snarl. It is now in the bin, and the cloud is wet. And then I overcooked the wheatbag in the microwave, so the whole house now smells like burnt popcorn. Evil.
Maybe that mountain is in the Arctic. Or Antarctic.
I am going to bed.