When I lived in Kent, Washington, there was one time when both of my sisters came to visit.
I had to work so we wouldn't be able to have too much time together - not enough by my book, but then... the morning after they arrived.... it snowed.
As a teacher - what do you know?
Snow Day!
Hooray!
We still managed to get out and do fun things like visit the Olympic Peninsula.... and hush past the casinos on the way to Port Townsend as A.E. was sleeping in the back seat, and it wouldn't be a good idea for her to be awake and see it.
We had a great time making up our own silly names for streets and other goofy sistery stuff, but one thing that really stands out in my memory is this:
We all pitched in to shovel the driveway, which was a double-car garage, stinty though, and couldn't have been more than a car length plus four feet, with a teensy border on the sides.
With all three of us shoveling back and forth, it took us more than an hour to shovel the quarter inch - at most - of snow.
We went back and forth, and forth and back, passing and looking at each other incredulously.
In New Jersey, it would've been a Nothing Day.
I think we must have been dithering, but serious in our task nonetheless.
There is no other earthly explanation.