This morning when I got to the Birch Street Nursing Home, Mr. Richards was waiting for me, eager to get back to work on the improvements of the activity room. I handed him the floor polish that I got at the hardware store, and he went right to work. I also handed Mrs. Lieberman the remainder of the money I got after returning the tools we'd used last week to pull up the carpet. I noticed she did not look happy when Mr. Richards, Mr. Volkov and Mrs. Henley were removing the poker table from the room, and I reminded her that it was only temporary while the floor was being polished. And though Mr. Richards warned the other patients that the floor would be slippery until the polish dried, Mrs. Patterson went to look out the window and ended up flat on her back.
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