Grandmother Winsome's Tips For Better Living

If you meet someone who closely resembles you, keep tabs on her. She could prove very useful if you ever need to fake your own death. After all, someone has to be in that casket.

Cindy's Job At The Birch Street Nursing Home

I decided to hold a fire drill today at the Birch Street Nursing Home. Even though it had been a long time since our last drill, I thought this one would go quickly because there are fewer patients alive now and no one had to carry out Hazel. I didn't announce it was a drill, and pretended there really was a fire. But things went wrong right from the start. When I blew the whistle, Sniffles The Eighth was startled and bit Mr. Pearlman. Mrs. Patterson managed to barricade herself in her room and swore that Mrs. Shimshack was not going to take her last few possessions. Mrs. Henley took a long time because she kept going back inside to save more food. Mr. Matthews also took a long time, and when I went to his room to check on him, he was under his bed searching for a certain children's catalogue. It took more than an hour, and when I finally got everyone outside, Mr. Smith was already arriving with the girls. So I quickly announced it was just a drill and told everyone to go back inside. Mr. Matthews looked relieved. Later I noticed that not all the food made it back onto the pantry shelves.

Cindy's Job At The Birch Street Nursing Home: Thanksgiving Edition

The patients at the Birch Street Nursing Home had a good Thanksgiving, except for Mr. Pearlman, who found one more trip wire left by Mrs. Patterson. While everyone else sat around the poker table and said what he or she was thankful for, Mr. Pearlman stayed in his room, resting his swollen knees. Mrs. Lieberman said she's thankful for the extra money brought in for the poker club by renting the three rooms to Mr. Smith. Mrs. Patterson said she is thankful that her trip wires work, and added that it's just a matter of time before she catches Mrs. Shimshack. Mrs. Kunkle is thankful that there aren't more windows and light switches at the Birch Street Nursing Home, because then her rounds would take all day. Mrs. Macmillan said she's thankful she didn't have to listen to Mr. Pearlman whining after today's fall. Mr. Matthews is thankful that his children's Christmas catalogues came early this year. Mrs. Henley said she's still thankful that one of Cinnamon's doctors accidentally ended up in her room. And I'm thankful that there haven't been any fires at the Birch Street Nursing Home this year, especially since we haven't been practicing our fire drill.

Grandmother Winsome's Thanksgiving Message

It's that special day when we declare what we are thankful for. Well, today I am thankful for professional football referees who are interested in making an extra buck. I have bets on all three games today, Kiddies. So far I am one for one!

Fanny Mail: A Question About Thanksgiving

Kiddies, I just received an email from Martin Brown of Rutland, Vermont. Martin writes: "Dear Grandmother Winsome, now that Covid restrictions have loosened, my family is planning a big Thanksgiving celebration. I fear I can't use the pandemic as an excuse for my absence this year. Do you have any suggestions for airtight excuses? In previous years, I've used illness, car trouble, and taking a friend to the hospital. And one year, out of desperation, I committed a small crime right in front of the police station in order to get arrested on Thanksgiving. Last year, Covid kept the family apart on the holiday. But what can I do about Thanksgiving this year?"

Well, Martin, one option is to tell your family you've volunteered at a soup kitchen, and don't want to risk getting anyone sick after being around all those homeless people. If you think they wouldn't believe you'd volunteer, then tell them a pipe burst in your home and you are stuck there wringing out towels until a plumber can arrive after the holiday.

Cindy's Job At The Birch Street Nursing Home

Yesterday at the Birch Street Nursing Home, after Mr. Smith picked up the girls and handed me the money for their rooms, there was a loud ruckus outside. I couldn't tell where it was coming from, because it was already dark, but there was some banging and then a scream. The noises frightened the patients, and they didn't want me to leave. So I waited until they'd all fallen asleep before walking home.

Fanny Mail: A Question About Being Published

Kiddies, I just received an email from Tanya Platt of Lawton, Oklahoma. Tanya writes: "Dear Grandmother Winsome, I am in the process of applying for a writing job at the local newspaper. The application asks if I've had any work published. You posted a Fanny Mail of mine back in 2017. Does that count as being published?"

Absolutely, Sweetie! And now you have been published twice.

Cindy's Job At The Birch Street Nursing Home

When I arrived at the Birch Street Nursing Home this morning, the first thing I noticed was that Mrs. Henley was wearing lipstick and had brushed her hair. Then in the afternoon, even though she was winning, she excused herself from the poker table early, saying she was going up to bed and hoping that the doctor from last week might pay her another visit.

Grandmother Winsome's Tips for Better Living

Kiddies, if you're looking for someone who will do anything for a little bit of money, consider attending a meeting of those who have a problem with gambling. There you'll meet people who are not adverse to taking risks, and are likely in need of some cash.

Cindy's Job At The Birch Street Nursing Home

Late this afternoon the lights went out at the Birch Street Nursing Home when a small plane crashed through some nearby power lines. The pilot was all right, but Mrs. Henley had an awful fright when one of Cinnamon's doctors accidentally ended up in her room and began poking and prodding her in the dark.

Grandmother Winsome's Tips For Better Living

Kiddies, be aware that not everyone in tents is actually camping. So if you come across some tents in a city, it might be best to refrain from poking your head inside and asking to borrow a compass.