Ain't nothin goin on but the rent

Life has slowed to a glacial pace here in the Okanagan, maybe because of the run of sub-zero temperatures we've been having. I thought it was cold when it hit -20 - not including the wind chill - but I was just informed tonight that it's supposed to drop to -36 in the next few days.
Minus 36? I've only ever heard about temperatures like that, or seen it in bad sci-fi films like "The Day After Tommorrow." I guess it will mean more days like the one I had on Friday.
Seeing my young - and hot - neighbor Tanya, who got her truck get stuck in the knee-deep snow in my cul-de-sac, Gentleman JJ leapt to the rescue. Shovelling and salting was in vain, so I went and found two 2x4s from my basement, and stuck them under the rear tires for traction.
Anyone who has ever seen the pitching machine in a batting cage work knows what's coming next. Yep, the hefty chunks of wood flew out the back of the truck like bolts of lightning from almighty Zeus himself, one of them catching me right on the tender part of my foot.
To add insult to injury, as Tanya accelerated out of the snowbank, I got a full-frontal snow barrage. It was the closest I have ever come to being white, though some who have heard me sing Tom Jones might disagree.
But I sucked it up, and stayed strong for Tanya, then collapsed in a writhing, crying ball of pain once the door shut behind me. Ahh, the cost of being neighborly.
Anyways, that's about it for now. I'm looking forward to next weekend, when the Irish Aboriginal, Miceail, returns for a visit from Van City. It promises, as he says, "to get Irish up in here." What that means, exactly, I'm not sure. Maybe it has something to do with Morris dancing and leprechauns. Well, we'll see on Saturday.