Card 01
The note on the back
Fifty small things to do in the gaps of a teaching day. Shuffle, pull one, do what it says, put it back.
Nothing matches that. Clear the search and try again.
No suits, no order, no right time. Pull what you pull.
Every card works at any point in a teaching day, which is why there is no sequence to keep and nothing to get through. Shuffle, pull one, do what it says, put it back. That is the whole mechanic.
The front of each card tells you what to do. The back tells you why it works, in plain terms, because knowing the mechanism makes a thing easier to actually do when you are tired and unconvinced.
If a card does not fit the day, put it back and pull another. There is no card you are failing to do properly. Card twenty one says outright that if the staffroom is your refuge you should ignore it, and that permission runs under the whole deck.
No app, no sign-up, no homework.
Fifty square cards in a box. The art is a set of pressed botanical specimen studies, one for each card, made to be looked at rather than decoded. Nothing on the cards is a symbol you have to learn.
The voice is direct and Australian, a bit bossy in a kind way. The neurodivergent lens is built in throughout rather than bolted on, which mostly shows up as the cards not assuming your day, your body or your staffroom look like anyone else's.