Norma Korenek doesn’t look a day of her age of 96.  As I walked into Milbridge’s West Manor Apartment building, I noticed the door was open to where she lived. Sitting on her couch, she wore a checked, red blouse with red pants. Her white hair was covered up with an old-fashioned straw hat and she wore glasses.The smell of biscuits and some type of meat and vegetables floated down the hall, overtaking my senses. I could hear a television set, loudly blasting in the bedroom. The smell of wood glue rose from the living room floor.