I’m a list-maker. Phew, I said it. It’s out there. I feel so much better now. Yes, I make lists. I come from a long line of list-makers. My mother makes lists, my grandmother makes lists, my aunts make them…you get it. Lists are in our blood. Before I knew it, I was addicted to the satisfaction I got from crossing a big, fat line through each item on the list. Each line meant a tiny victory for me. Some lists are simple and fun, like what is needed at the grocery store. Other lists, however, might as well be Mount Everest: the endless list of books I want to read, places I want to travel, home improvement projects, general life goals. You know, lists that remind me of what little progress I’ve made. Lists that mock me and, in turn, get moved from the top of the stack to the back of a drawer.
Guys, for the last five weeks I have been involved in a practicum experience as part of my degree; I have been working with a wonderful English teacher and her 8th graders every morning and Friday was my last day. I absolutely loved my experience and the conclusion was bittersweet. I was sad to say goodbye to the students I worked with, but I was happy to be able to get back in the kitchen and start blogging again.
As you all know, I love roast chicken. I posted about it a couple of years ago, but I wanted to revisit it. This time, I chose to keep it even simpler; no veggies, no herbs, no roasting pan, no nonsense. Just a chicken, some kosher salt and black pepper, and a skillet.