My grandmother also tears through crossword puzzles, with an ink pen to be extra hardcore. Every morning for the last 300 years or so, without fail, her ritual was to have a cup of black coffee, eat a bowl of raisin bran, and do the crossword in the daily paper.
She still does one every morning at the care home, even on the days she can't remember her own name and her handwriting is mephistophelean runes. Some days she'll do the one in the paper before even getting out of bed, go out in the communal lobby naked, ask another resident if she can have today's crossword when they're done with their paper, and then do it again.
Just saying, knowing how to do a crossword isn't a sign of sanity.
My grandmother also tears through crossword puzzles, with an ink pen to be extra hardcore. Every morning for the last 300 years or so, without fail, her ritual was to have a cup of black coffee, eat a bowl of raisin bran, and do the crossword in the daily paper.
She still does one every morning at the care home, even on the days she can't remember her own name and her handwriting is mephistophelean runes. Some days she'll do the one in the paper before even getting out of bed, go out in the communal lobby naked, ask another resident if she can have today's crossword when they're done with their paper, and then do it again.
Just saying, knowing how to do a crossword isn't a sign of sanity.