Good Riddance

"You did great!" the dermatologist's assistant told me as I was getting ready to leave the procedure room, where they had cut a two-inch incision and yanked a marble-sized cyst out of my right arm. "Do you want to see it before you go?"

"No!" I said. "Well, maybe."

She held up a specimen cup with a gory little orb floating in saline. "You two have been together a long time," she noted wryly as she turned to place it back on the tray.

"That's true," I agreed. It had been at least 15 years. "Bye now! Take care of yourself!" I waved.

"You, too," she said cheerfully.

"Oh," I laughed. "I was talking to the cyst! I'll see you in ten days when I get my stitches out."

In Pursuit of a One Track Mind

I often advise myself to focus on one thing at a time as much as I can, particularly as I get older. I've discovered that when my mind is two steps ahead of my body, I am much more accident-prone. Whether it's knocking over a full pot of coffee, bumping my head on the freezer door, or tripping up the steps, when these little calamities strike, I know it's because I wasn't paying attention.

Strangely, it rarely happened at school, maybe because teaching was my jam and I was often in a flow state there. Before I retired, though, I often found myself distracted outside of work, and so I made an effort to be as mindful as I could. Then, once my days became less scheduled, it was easier to stay present most of the time.

But right now, I have two part-time jobs with kind of steep learning curves, and even just juggling the hours has become a little stressful. It's also a busy time of year-- in addition to birthday and graduation celebrations, I also need to get my garden cleaned up and planted, and we have some home maintenance projects on the calendar, as well.

Today is a good example of what I mean. This morning, I spent time writing up observation notes from my coaching job, updating details for the standardized test we're administering on Thursday, and making bread. This afternoon, I had to vote in the special election, fill the car with gas, and have a cyst on my arm removed at the dermatologist. 

I was thinking of those last two commitments as I checked in and filled out my ballot at the polls. When I stopped at the gas station on my way to the doctor, I realized I didn't have the magnetic wallet that attaches to my phone. I knew I had it when I voted, and I felt certain I had it when I went to the car. I thought I remembered clipping it to the back of my phone as I waited for Heidi to complete her ballot, so I really hoped I hadn't dropped it in the parking lot or on the sidewalk.

I was feeling extremely aggravated with myself when my phone rang. It was John Smith (yes, really) from the polling place calling to let me know I had left my wallet behind in the voting booth. There was just enough time to swing by and retrieve it before heading off to have my arm dissected, cyst resected, and incision sutured, but I tried not to focus on that!

The Profiler

As I pulled into our parking lot this morning, the sun glinted off something on the edge of the driving lane. Squinting, I could make out a pair of abandoned sunglasses, and I jogged back to retrieve them after parking. Judging by their undamaged condition, I figured they hadn't been there very long, but our lot was nearly empty, so they might have belonged to any number of residents. When I examined them more closely, though, I saw that they were gold Gucci aviators, and that, plus their general location, led me to believe they belonged to our neighbor across the way. I knew that she could be a little scattered at times, especially in the morning, so it wasn't unlikely that she had dropped them on her way to the car.

I placed them on the wall of her patio and promptly forgot all about my detective work until I happened to see her pull in this afternoon. From the window, I could see she was not wearing sunglasses, which, in my mind, strengthened my case. I opened my front door as she was passing. "Are those your sunglasses?" I sang out.

She looked confused. "I don't think so."

"Really?" I was disappointed. "Gucci? Gold? Aviators?" I shook my head. "I was so sure! You're really the only one in the neighborhood who could rock that!"

She laughed and gave me an impulsive hug, tickled by the praise. Then she looked at the shades. "They are mine!" she exclaimed. "I didn't even know they were missing."

Case closed.

Sunday DInner and HBD Bill

To accommodate everyone's schedule, we finally celebrated Bill's birthday tonight, at the tail end of his birthday week. Sunday is not our usual evening to gather, so as I was planning the menu, I tried to play on a Sunday dinner from our childhood, with some elevated elements. 

My dad loved chicken with white gravy, a kind of cross between stew and fricassee, with pieces of bone-in chicken and chunks of celery and carrots. My mom served it with biscuits, peas, and mashed potatoes, a recipe she got from his sister. It is a comforting dish, but it lends itself to a lighter version, particularly if you use spring vegetables. 

I made a version tonight with a sous vide chicken thigh roulade stuffed with herbs and pea shoots. Then I blanched haricot vert, baby carrots, tiny turnips, and baby leeks, and served it all with Yukon gold potato puree and white gravy, and of course, biscuits.

The dish was light but filling, so for dessert I made pumpkin pie tassies and mini cream puffs with custard and chocolate glaze. Just one bite each, if you could stop at one! 

I was pleased with the way the meal turned out but even happier to have the chance to cook for and celebrate my brother. I do love that guy!

Imagine That

 "Are you watching the second season of The Pitt?" a friend asked us a few weeks ago.

"Not yet," I told him. "We're waiting for the whole thing to drop, so we can binge it."

His eyes widened. "You mean you're going to watch it all in one day?" he said. "I guess it will be like you're working the shift with them." He shook his head.

"That's not exactly what we had planned," I laughed. "But, wouldn't that be something!"

Lost Art

"Hey there, John!" I hailed the tech guy as he wheeled the laptop cart into my temporary office. The other substitute testing coordinator and I had been hard at work organizing the lists and materials for the district assessment next week.

"Sorry, this is late," he apologized, "but I just got out of a two-hour meeting where they told us that all middle school kids are probably going to get a laptop instead of a tablet next year."

We all groaned. "This is their plan for managing screen time?" I shook my head.

What followed was a 20-minute commiseration about the downsides of technology for young learners. I shared my theory that many kids actually resent having to use a device they consider recreational to do work. "Technology is not as engaging as it used to be, because it's so ubiquitous," I shrugged.

John nodded. "In the summer, I go to the high schools to help distribute laptops to the rising freshmen," he told us. "I bring copies of directions with me so the kids can set them up once they're issued. It's like three steps." He sighed. "You would not believe the number of students who tell me that they can't read on paper!"

Slow on the Download

"I don't have the desktop version of Excel," I informed my colleague. "This is my personal computer, so..." I trailed off. "I couldn't actually figure out how to do it," I confessed.

We spent the next 30 minutes or so looking for workarounds to the complicated directions we had been left for printing testing rosters from an enormous spreadsheet. I booted up the loaner laptop that the school's Instructional Technology Coordinator had provided, but personalizing its settings and familiarizing myself with another brand was also very time-consuming. 

Finally, through a combination of converting, sharing, saving, and YouTube research, we completed the task and printed the 80 testing rosters they would need to prepare the bins starting tomorrow.

"Everything takes longer than you think it will in this job," my colleague sighed. "Thank goodness there are two of us!"

"No kidding," I agreed and thanked her heartily for all her guidance and help.

It wasn't until I got home that it occurred to me to just download Excel from the App Store. The days when you had to buy installation discs are long gone, and nowadays you just pay for a subscription to use the software you download for free. 

And, DUH! I already have a subscription through school!