Small valleys

God as my witness, I will never complain about the potholes in St. John's again.

No kidding, the annual plague of potholes that pop up every April, the ones that people spent weeks bitching about, the ones that people flood the Open Line shows over and say this is further evidence that St. John's City Council is run by morons...

Pussy stuff.

No shit. There is a shortcut we normally take coming home from lunch to avoid the congestion at one of the intersections. I glanced down that road, which is not paved, on the way to work this morning. It was fine.

By lunch time there was a pot hole big enough, and filled with enough water, that when we drove into it, the water covered a third of the door.

That was followed by another five minutes of trying, unsuccessfully, in finding a path of least resistance through the potholes. It was like doing moguls, except with a Hyundai.

Apparently this happens every spring in Iqaluit. The snow and ice get soft enough to start forming ruts everywhere. And where it melts, it erodes away the dirt road. However, it's all still just cold enough to make having one of the city trucks come along and smooth things impossible because the ground is too hard.

I never really understood why people had the big ass jeeps and pick-ups in Iqaluit. Sure, some of them are towing snowmobiles, ATVs or lugging around lots of stuff. But there are just as many driving them because they can.

But now I understand. They have them for spring. You might only need them for three weeks out of the year, but right now I would kill to have a 4 by 4. I just hope the Accent can handle another couple of weeks of this. It's sounding pretty unhappy with the shock torture right now.

Other than that, the weather is getting a bit milder. It's still staying below 0, but it is hovering between 0 and -10 most days. It is kind of nice, really. I mean, I'm ready for the snow to be gone, but it's fine enough weather for the Arctic in May.

The other thing is, of course, the daylight. Sunrise was 4:03 a.m. this morning. The sun will be setting in about an hour, at 8:59 p.m. That's just about 17 hours of direct sunshine. By the time you throw in the very long dusk, you're closer to about 19 hours of daylight. And it's another six weeks until Summer Solstice. We won't get 24 hours of daylight, but it'll be close enough to not make much of a difference.

I'm doing fine right now. A fairly regular sleeping pattern. We declare night at 9 p.m. and try to block out as much of the daylight as possible.

Cathy, however, is already starting to buzz. She normally goes to bed around 10. She's been lasting to 11 or later. And she's hyper. I love her dearly, but the next few weeks ought to be interesting.

Then again, if the potholes keep getting bigger and Cathy keeps buzzing like this, I can probably drive Cathy to work in the morning...