Two Weeks Without Heat, and Somehow… We’re Still Here

It’s been 14 days without heat in our camper. Not off-grid heat. Not flickering. Not unreliable.
None. Outside: sub-zero Northern Ontario cold.
Inside: survival. Every single day.

At this point, it isn’t just about enduring. It’s about adapting.

We’ve gotten better at it — not by choice, but through sheer necessity. We’ve layered up, boiled water on the stove for warmth, and embraced absurd daily rituals just to stay sane. (Can’t find socks? Check the oven.)

But this episode wasn’t just a log of misery. In fact… something shifted.


—

We started getting comments from our viewers — not the shallow kind, but real, grounding words from people watching, caring, feeling this with us. And somehow, hearing their encouragement helped pull us back from the edge.

It reminded us:
We’re not doing this alone.
We’re doing this out loud.

That matters.


—

We’ve had small wins too.
The weather, finally, has started to give us a little grace. Temperatures nudged upward. We could feel our bones relax just a little. The water didn’t freeze solid overnight.
And while the furnace still sat dead and defiant, the hope started to return.

We were beginning to find a rhythm.
A way to live with the discomfort, not just in spite of it.

There’s something strange about it — the moment your body and mind accept the hardship, not as a problem to solve, but a partner to dance with.

We weren’t waiting for rescue anymore.
We were just living. Right there, in the cold.
And we hadn’t broken.


—

> “It’s hard to explain to someone what resilience feels like until you’re forced to wear it like a second skin.”



This wasn’t the end of the struggle.
But it was the first time we felt like we could laugh a little in the middle of it.

We were cold.
We were tired.
But we were still here.

And now… we knew we would stay.