Candle power may last for weeks

Tania Huddleston and children Liam, Isaac and Bridie, read by candlelight after a blizzard cut power to their home. Picture / Simon Baker

Liam Huddleston is scared of the dark - not the best problem when you're just three years old, the lights have gone out in your rural Canterbury home and the nights are long and eerie.

"We have to send him to bed with a torch now that the power's gone," says his mother, Tania. "We've got lots of spare batteries."

Batteries, candles, generators and firewood have become invaluable commodities since a blizzard cut power and phone lines to much of rural Canterbury on Monday.

"It makes for a beautiful landscape, but the novelty wears off," says farm manager Rhys Huddleston, a 36-year-old father of three.

He adds: "And no TV. I never thought I'd miss it so much. But they say it could be two to three weeks before we get power back. We just hope that's a worse-case scenario."

Just south of Mt Hutt and the Rakaia River, the hills and fields that surround the Huddlestons' home are blanketed with thigh-deep snow.

On their front lawn, Liam's small bike is buried up to its handlebars. Out back, at the base of Mt Alford, the trampoline is drooping under its burden of snow.

In the afternoon sun and a light breeze, what looks serenely picturesque is a deceptive trap with but a faint light at the end of the tunnel - remote areas are facing a further fortnight without electricity.

And things are likely to get worse before they get better, with more snow and a series of cold fronts coming through today and continuing into next week.

How will they cope? "Whisky, a lot of whisky," Mr Huddleston joked.

A log burner in the Huddlestons' lounge has been devouring firewood. On the radio, which sits between a lifeless television and a silent telephone, Smiths City are calling for people who need generators to be at the store at 4.30pm.

In the Huddlestons' kitchen, a wetback coal range provides not only another centre of warmth, but a means to cook and heat a limited amount of water.

But at night, as young Liam takes comfort from his battery-powered nightlight, the Huddlestons go to bed in thermal underwear and wrap themselves around hot water bottles.

The critical commodity is water, which flows into their home from a tank on Mt Alford. If it dries up, it will deprive the Huddlestons of much more than something to drink and wash with; the coal range will be useless.

"Then we can't cook. That'd be bad," Mr Huddleston says.

So far the water supply is holding up and their diet has not taken any drastic turns.

The same cannot be said of neighbouring farmer Julian Chamberlain, who has to cook over his log-burner.

It's the kind of limitation, he says, that leads to unconventional meals such as lamb chops for breakfast.

"But it's not that bad. We love camping and are used to roughing it - just not usually in the snow."

Mrs Huddleston uses bubble bath, lots of it, to disguise the not-so-clean in which they bathe. "Everyone shares the bath," she says, because the family needs to conserve water.

Her husband, sporting a stubbly and rugged Southern Man look, adds: '"We don't bother washing clothes, and it's a good excuse not to shave."

However, the family's two other children - Bridie, 9, and Isaac, 6 - can't decide if there's such a thing as too much snow. And they're not too sad that the lack of power has shut down Methven Primary School.

The children pass the day with board games - though snakes and ladders is getting tedious - having snowfights and freeing their inner creative beasts with felt pens.

Liam's face still bears streaks of blue across his cheek, the scars of his last battle.

At night, the family sit around the fire and exchange ghost stories or read by candlelight.

From the outside it appears cosy, even romantic.

"We're lucky," Mr Huddleston says. "Others have it worse than us."

And they take comfort in knowing that friendly family hands are only 80km away in Southbridge, where Mrs Huddleston's parents live.

They visited on Thursday with emergency supplies of candles, batteries, gaslights and a bag of spuds - and carted away bags of rubbish.

The Huddleston clan will be seeking refuge in Southbridge tonight for a family dinner, followed by the All Blacks game.

And if things turn to complete custard, a temporary move to Southbridge is a welcome safety net.

In the meantime, Mr Huddleston is keeping his fingers crossed.

"Be prepared for the worst and hope for the best," he says.

"There's not a lot we can do.

"We're just playing the waiting game."