On days like today--my father would assemble my three sisters for snow brigade duty.  I can remember one cold, blustery night, especially--the four of us, knee deep in snow, pushing shovels in a gale blizzard.  My father in his government issue glasses barking--commander-in-chief in all of his military glory. 

Four girls whining and crying as neighbors slowly drove by, and rolled down their windows to ask if "we" were alright...did we need help?  My father explaining...that shoveling during the storm meant less work the next day.  He was right.