Third time trying to post this, the other two lost at sea when our power went down; from up here in the near-northern Huron bush right down to Buffalo NY, these Great Lakes are in a great howl of a storm that has scattered our roads with large bits of trees (and the occasional whole tree) and hits us with blackouts every few minutes.

We sit at the ready with candles, the camp-stove and the propane lantern, the water jugs full (the well pump is electric), firewood cut and listening to the winds outside roar to 110km/h in the open areas.

We woke this morning to kids running amok in the playroom under the excitement of the winds; we'd just promised them toast for breakfast when --- y'know, it is still pretty darn dark at 8am in these parts. We scrambled for flashlights, the kids had jam sandwiches instead, and we dug out the battery radio to listen for school closure reports. Power came back around 10, but not long enough to do much more than get some water into the toilet tank, then up and then down again. Port Elgin awoke this morning to find 20 of their powerline telephone poles missing so they'll be off-line for a while; the Kirkster awoke to find several of his trees flattened to the road like trodden blades of grass, two of which we had to duck under driving back from a provisions run to the Value-Mart, and another three that toppled while they were cutting back those two.

Every window is a draft; you can hear the witch howling at the stove fan vent in the kitchen, and when you do things, even simple things like washing your hands, you do it quickly, mindful that any moment could shut it down.

Forecasts say winds persisting at 60-90km/h 15cm of snow today, another 15cm overnight tonight.

Season of the Witches

November storms on the great lakes are the stuff of legend -- The mariners call these the November Witches; the most famous was the one that claimed all 29 hands on the ore freighter Edmund Fitzgerald on November 10th, 1975 (immortalized in song by Gordon Lightfoot), that storm the same intensity as the November Witch of 1998.

But none hold a hurricane lantern to the great Freshwater Fury back 90 years ago, on November 11, 1913, the sum of two colliding lake storms that swallowed at least 18 ships and at least 235 lives, vanished, sucked into Lake Huron like a pebble dropped into a fishpond.

"No lake master can recall in all his experience a storm of such unprecedented violence with such rapid changes in the direction of the wind and its gusts of such fearful speed! Storms ordinarily of that velocity do not last over four or five hours, but this storm raged for sixteen hours continuously at an average velocity of sixty miles per hour, with frequent spurts of seventy and over.

For now, we sit tight, no need to go anywhere since schools and most business activity are cancelled and not daring to do anything critically important online. The howl is right now in a temporary lull where the roar is like an ocean surf, and we can see the neighbour's house now quite clearly, but we're still left with that feeling like you've slipped into a dragon's lair and maybe, just maybe if you keep very quiet, the monster won't notice you as it hurls it's destruction all around.

If you don't hear from us for the rest of the day, we're likely alright, just fallen off the edge of the wired world.