Where's My Whiskey?

The whiskey bottle is missing.  But I don't think it really existed anyway.

I have an elderly aunt in a nursing home.  A very homey nursing home.  There is a dog and cat who can be found snoozing with a resident.  Birds flitter about in an aviary.   Residents are taken out on van rides around the countryside to watch the corn grow.  They play bingo several times a week.  Everyone wins.  The residents go back to their room with a prize; a banana, some crackers, a beanie baby.  The staff are all

kind and thoughtful.   But my aunt has one problem.  Someone has taken her whiskey bottle!

My aunt is a wonderful woman.  But her short term memory is...well,short.  She can tell you a story from eighty years ago in vivid detail.  But some days has no memory of who visited her yesterday. 

One visit after telling me about the pet raccoon she kept in the house seventy years ago, she preceded to complain that someone had stolen her whiskey bottle.  It was gone.  She couldn't find it anywhere.  She instructed me to go out to the grocery store.  No, maybe the grocery store didn't sell whiskey.  I should find a liquor store in a larger town.  Her town's population is only 779.  They do have a gnat of a grocery store, but liquor is not on their shelves.

I interrupted her ramblings.  "Auntie, I don't think you are allowed to have whiskey in here."

Her face grew solemn as she thought.  "We can hide it under my underpants.  No one has to know I have it."

I tried to reason with her.  "They will find it when they put your clean clothes away."

Then in walked the nurse.  This ninety-four year old lady moved faster than a run away truck.  She yanked open the bottom drawer of her night stand and pulled out a wrinkled brown bag.  Shoving the bag under the nurse's nose she complained, "Someone stole my bottle of whiskey.  This is the empty one!"

To my utter astonishment, an empty bottle of whiskey dropped out of the bag!  OMG!  Were they going to expel my aunt from the nursing home?

The nurse patiently picked up the bottle and said to my aunt, "Remember we had to take the full one and lock it up.  Let us know when you want it and we'll bring it down to you."

I managed to stutter, "You mean she really has a whiskey bottle here?"

"Oh yes," said the nurse.  "Many of our residents have alcohol.  By law we have to lock it up.  Lots of them will have drinks with their guests that visit."

The mystery of the missing whiskey bottle has been solved.  It did exist.  My only concern now was why my aunt had never offered a drink to me, her favorite niece?  And by the way, I want my children to know that when I am elderly I am going to live with each of them for five months at a time.  That way I can be at a different house for Christmas each year.  But when I am tired of moving around, I want to live in the nursing home with the missing whiskey bottle.

Don't Feed the Husband!

My mother had fallen and broken her hip. I needed to go to Texas to help. Doug had just come home from a two month leave of absence.  I would have to leave him to cook, clean, do laundry, and shop for himself for an undisclosed length of time.  There would be cats to feed and litter boxes to tidy.  The dog I am babysitting would have to be walked at least three times a day, even in toe numbing below zero weather.  (Yes, I have done this.)  And there would be no children living at home to help him.

Yes Virginia there is a Santa Claus!

Before I left I had a special election to work.  I related to the women I worked with my joy in having Doug rough it by himself.  When I have left before, our sweet children who went to school and worked jobs and did a mountain of homework, were tasked to do laundry, clean, feed the cats, and have dinner on the table when he arrived home from a sit down job.

Then in walked a voter, (Yes this is amazing because we had seven all day!)  my cousin Pat.  She is funny and caring and way too kind.  She had a container of warm homemade sugar cookies for Doug.  After all he was going to be all by himself out in the cold, lonely country.  My parting words to her were, "Do not feed the husband!"

This is how Doug's bachelor time went.  "It has been in the 40's since you left, honey.   It's bright and sunny with no snow in the forecast.  The dog and I sat outside having a beer and scratching ears."  I can only hope it was Doug having the beer and the dog getting his ears scratched.

"What about food?  What did you make?"  I sat on the edge of my chair anticipating the answer.  I had left the cupboards a little barren.  He didn't know the difference between 93% lean beef and 40% lean beef.  And he tends to blacken his food.  This was going to be good.

"Well, as it turns out, I didn't cook a thing."

Wait,..what?  He survived on cold cereal and peanut butter?  Then why do I cook a hot three course meal every night?

"I went to church one morning for the Lenten breakfast.  There were biscuits and gravy and eggs and cooked prunes.  Everyone knew you were gone, so they sent the leftovers home with me."

 I thought I liked those people.

"One night I went to the fundraiser for the antique tractor club.  There was thick vegetable soup and creamy potato soup, and hearty beef chili.  Someone made deli sandwiches with the bread slathered in butter.  (This is the Midwest.)  Dessert was three layer chocolate cake and gooey chocolate chip cookies."

"Another night I traveled to Earling for the Parish's all you can eat fish dinner.  We had fresh Alaskan pollack, a fist sized baked potato, crunchy coleslaw,  fresh from the oven buns, and decedent angel food cake with strawberries and just beaten whipped cream.  When those nice people there heard we never serve fish at our house, they sent me home with a sack full of leftover pollack."

"Then another night I went into Harlan for the spring fundraiser.  It was a buffet!"  His eyes bugged out at that word.  "We had fork tender chicken and roast beef and gravy, lump less mashed potatoes, corn and green beans from someone's garden, too many jello salads to count, and cakes up the wazoo."

And so the eating continued.  I zoned out.  I told people I knew not to feed the husband.  But I forgot to tell the strangers.  He talked on.

"This morning I went to Irwin for the benefit breakfast for the fire house.  There was so much food.  Fluffy eggs, pancakes swimming in syrup, biscuits and sausage gravy, and thick slabs of ham.  I met new people.  Oh, and by the way,"  He was puffed up now. "  I am now an Irwin volunteer fireman."

There is a Santa, but he doesn't play fair!