The electricity keeps coming and going; none of the subsequent outages have been as prolonged as the initial one, but even though there is no storm to blame at the moment, the hydro is waxing and waning capriciously, and each time it does, it enacts the once bitten twice shy reaction of despair, wondering for how long it will be out this time around.

Between work, weather and power outages, I haven't gone anywhere in my jeep since just before Christmas. It actually disappeared beneath a generous blanket of snow for a while, becoming an indistinct white lump (Canadian archeology: digging out your vehicle in winter) not unlike this vehicle elsewhere in the village.

Even better, Tim went to kindly dig it out on the weekend, and he was out there forever; when he came back in he informed me that the jeep had actually been frozen to the ground, thanks to the ice storm we had a couple of weeks ago, and he'd had to take buckets of warm water out and use the 4WD to extricate it.

Motivated by pure necessity, I decided to venture out today; there was a round of snow coming in, but not until the afternoon, and the roads were probably as clear as they are going to get until spring. To get to Huntsville you have 2 choices: the highway to hell I have written about before (a quiet but very technical and poorly maintained road on the best of days) of a 10km longer trip on better roads, including a controlled-access highway. I've always opted for the former, because it's shorter and quieter. Today, however, once I committed to it, it got progressively worse, turning into a rutted mess of pockmarked, wet ice.

On the way back, however, the snow had arrived early, and I decided to brave the highway for the trip home. It didn't help that I'd just this morning read a newspaper article mentioning several bad accidents and a closure on this highway during the last storm, and someone had quipped ''the Port Sydney Triangle strikes again''. Guess which stretch of highway he was referring to? Guess which stretch of highway I had to drive on?

In any case, it was the right choice, because the road was markedly better maintained than my morning route had been. The radio even obliged with one of my favourite songs, and a very apropos one, Drive:

Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear

And I can't help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear 

Take the wheel and steer

It's driven me before

And it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal

But lately I am beginning to find 

That I should be the one behind the wheel

Whatever tomorrow brings

I'll be there with open arms and open eyes

Whatever tomorrow brings

I'll be there with open arms and open eyes

So if I decide to waiver my chance 

To be one of the hive

Will I choose water over wine 

And hold my own and drive?

It's driven me before 

And it seems to be the way that everyone else gets around

But lately I am beginning to find 

That when I drive myself my light is found

So whatever tomorrow brings

I'll be there with open arms and open eyes, yeh

Whatever tomorrow brings

I'll be there with open arms and open eyes

Would you kill the Queen to crush the hive?

Would you choose water over wine

Hold the wheel and drive?

I love the message of this song, which has been around for a couple of decades now, and I think I needed to be reminded. It's not a song that is often on a radio playlist, and I'm spiritual enough to think that I was meant to hear it. Not just for the immediate courage it instilled in me to drive in what I consider scary, uncomfortable conditions, but also in a larger sense, in terms of how dark and black and down I've felt on so many levels of late, perhaps more so than at most other points in my life. I know that the weather's getting me down, and the sense of impotence in the face of the cold and the snow and the hydro outages, but there's also my running, which has gone to hell in a handbasket for no apparent reason, and my work, which is frustrating on many different levels, and the struggles with my identity as an artist, as I mentioned at the beginning of January; then there's the politics south of the border, with the Raging Cheeto and his retinue of proselytes, propagandists and parasites. Why do I even care? Not even my country. But it does get me down, and adds to the darkness accruing inside me.

All I know is that I survived that drive, and there were puppies at the end to give me a warm welcome home.  

Here are a few night and day scenes from this week, both dark and bright, with and without the benefit of electricity.

Hydro went out at 2:30 am, and here we are 12 hours later: no electricity, no water, no heat. Laptop's at 25% power, so posting now just in case. Sitting here at the kitchen table in a winter jacket and a hat, thinking about better days.