Despite my earlier plans I never did make it to the party, largely because of a slight breakdown in communication. 

Master was told that there were “three flights of stairs” to the host’s (his colleague’s partner’s) flat and, envisioning having to walk up 39 steps, I said I’d have to politely decline and meet the team in town sometime instead. There was apparently a lift too but, and with thanks to my brain, I can’t use them. ChatGPT suggested a few weeks ago that I may have a Sensory Processing Disorder with movement — rather than simple amaxophobia — which may check out given I already have cerebellar ataxia. It’s one more thing I may need to get looked at.

It turns out there were only 15 stairs in all — three sets of five steps — which I could have managed if I’d taken my time and stretched the crunchy parts out. Well, we know now for next time. 

So instead, I had an evening of knocking around the flat on my own. Our flat. Home. 

I did have quite an interesting conversation with Valkyries, about Good Friday and Christian customs. It’s something that I knew how to mark.

Or at least, I thought I did. But, it turns out, maybe I don’t. 

Way back in my Anglican upbringing I was taught, essentially, that humans are sinners, and Jesus died for our sins. We are indebted to him and, on Good Friday and until Easter Sunday, we sacrifice pleasures (meat, sex, entertainment, to name but a few), just as Jesus sacrificed himself for us. It is our way of saying “thanks”. 

Valkyries was confused as to where this belief was coming from, and I was surprised that he didn’t know it. I mean, wasn’t he supposed to be a Christian too? 

So we talked about that, and Valkyries told me that he’d never heard of this notion before. That comes as even more of a surprise to me: how have you not heard it? 

So, I realised, my upbringing had been quite strict and fear-based, religiously speaking. There was a lot of guilt and shame that I’d been forced to carry, and that, essentially, wasn’t my cross to bear. I hadn’t done anything bad to Jesus. I hadn’t personally betrayed him, so what did I have to feel sorry for? 

I ate a Cornish Pasty on Good Friday and thought I’d have to pray for forgiveness. Really? That’s my sin? 

Did I kill the cow myself? Did I cause it undue suffering? Had I deliberately hurt anything or anyone? No, no and no. 

Granted, I did take a life yesterday: one of my corydoras was looking pale, distressed and generally on death’s door, so I managed to net it out and humanely euthanised it with a little tank water and a drop of clove oil. 

But that’s humane euthanasia; I could see God’s creation was suffering a slow and miserable death and so I made the choice to give it a dignified and comfortable exit and sent it on its merry way to join Him in heaven. It’s not for me to judge my actions, but if — as we learn according to 1 John 4:8 — God is love, then He likely sees me giving my beloved (but suffering) scaly friend a graceful end as one of the most loving things that I could do.    

It is hard-hitting, but it’s also inspired me to go from feeling like I’m not good enough to doing and being the best that I can be, to live with good intentions, and asking for forgiveness when I know that I’ve fucked up. I do not have to fear our Father anymore, though I pray for the forgiveness of those who told me that I should. 

Speaking of God’s creations and all things great and small, I have been closely following the Artemis II mission. This time I am allowed to read the news, so long as it’s about missions around the moon and not wars in farflung countries. 

But speaking of wars back on earth, the battle between the sexes lives on. 

I have been teasing Valkyries, after I threw down the gauntlet the other day and he didn’t pick it up. Sir even said he had “cemented that gauntlet down with anchor spikes”. I asked if that was so he could make sure he couldn’t pick it up. 

Sir did say he’s not afraid of a battle, but maybe the battle has already been lost, or won? Perhaps my challenge was less about an impending naval battle, and more of a reconnaissance flight? You see, Valkyries was more interested in posturing than he was in actually meeting my challenge, and in that, he might have just shown me everything I needed to know 😉