When I woke up to howling winds and two-foot drifts of snow on Monday, I grimly downed two cups of coffee, donned my ski gear and resolutely marched out to shovel at 8:30 am. Ninety minutes into the task, I had reached my driveway, but I was running out of steam. Worse, I was facing a huge pile of heavy, wet snow in my driveway, courtesy of the plows that had covered my street again and again overnight. At this point, I reasoned that a cookie break was in order, and stepped inside for a moment. Still crunching on my snack (made by Oradell resident and friend Sharon Tanner), I walked back …