Yesterday was a productive day for me: I took my to-do list down from about 92 items to 48 just before bedtime. It’s still quite sizeable, but some repeat every week, every two weeks, some even every month or more. My hope is that through a slow and determined grind, I can take my to-do list down to not more than 15-20 chores per day. Still a chunk, but certainly not 60 chores a day. 

I also potted up the two patio roses that were gifted to me by my Mum. One is called “Isn’t She Wonderful” and is a pale yellow rose when it blooms, the other is “Isn’t She Precious” — a late birthday present with fragrant pink blossoms.

Valkyries notified me yesterday that he’d found a battleships game on Discord. It lands like a concerning blip on my radar — I can no longer rest on my laurels. Now, I have to sit up and pay attention. 

In a way, I’m not so sure that a game is a good idea. I mean, sure, we’re both strategists and blah blah, but isn’t peace a much better option? Nobody needs their pride blown apart here. 

Speaking of games, last night was the last episode of The Hunt: Prey VS Predator, and as endings go, we both felt it was very weak. Predator Shelley managed to “freeze” and capture prey Marc, only for Marc to capture her again five minutes later, reverting her to her “predator” status and seeing her eliminated in a sudden death “cull”. With three remaining competitors — Mhairi, Marc and Ameer — each had to vote for who they think should be eliminated next. Marc and Ameer chose their alliance, both voting for Mhairi to go. 

For a final challenge, Marc and Ameer, in separate locations, were both presented with three numbered screens with three different actions: split the money, Ameer takes it all, or Marc takes it all. Only Marc could see which number corresponded with what action. he then — and using the trust that the pair had forged between them — had to guide (and trust) Ameer to make the right choice for them both, based on what they’d agreed: that they would split the prizepot, no questions asked.

Marc told Ameer, via an earpiece, that the second screen would split the cash equally between them. I questioned that: the middle option splits the cash down the middle? Hmm… that seems a bit too obvious to me.

I could see in Marc’s body language, he carried a lot of anxiety. In part, I realised he didn’t trust Ameer to follow his lead, but I sensed there was more. 

“He’s lied to him” I say. Master disagrees with me. 

“Why would he lie?” he asks, “they’re friends!” 

“Except for when there’s ninety-seven grand at stake” I reply. 

 My hunch was right; Marc did deceive Ameer — the second option awarded Marc all the money. Ameer had trusted him and followed his lead, and to his own dismay. 

Marc apologised profusely, but the damage was already done. 

“Well played,” Ameer said coldly, “enjoy it”. Oof. 

“I don’t think he’ll be able to after that!” I laugh. 

Master asks me if I think I’d be good on The Hunt, “if your health wasn’t a problem.”

“It’s more than just speed, it’s strategy,” he adds, “I think you’d be quite good at it.” 

“I’ve been playing these sorts of games a long time,” I explain, “so yes, quite possibly. I also wouldn’t run everywhere like this lot do — Scout’s pace is a much more energy-conserving pace.” 

“Scout’s pace?” Master asks. I forget not everyone speaks my language.

“Run twenty steps, walk twenty steps” I explain, “run, walk, run, walk. You cover distance quickly without tuckering yourself out.” 

“Of course, you peg it with a predator on your tail!” I add. Master laughs. 

But Scout’s pace isn’t the only strategy I know.

Yesterday, I played it cool. Very, very cool. 

I’d had the dispatch notice, I said nothing. Nothing more than a quiet acknowledgement to myself. 

When Amazon notified me that my parcel was eight stops away, again I didn’t say or do anything. It wasn’t being delivered to me. 

It was being delivered to Valkyries, who told me on Sunday that he didn’t receive an Easter egg this year. Naturally I stepped in and “rectified the situation”, but I didn’t say a dicky bird about it. 

In the art of war, it was the element of surprise, with a dash of hearts and minds thrown in for good measure. Sun Tzu would be proud.