63 games, newest first. The last seven are free for everyone.
The only day with no English idiom on the board at all: a film line, two songs, a proverb and a plate. Instincts will not help.
Two d1 openers, the softest beginning of any day, then three animal idioms at d2. Nothing here is trying to trick you.
Four animal idioms and one puzzle that is a political insult — the biggest register change on any single board.
An opener that is nearly a gift and no puzzle harder than d2 — the gentlest board since the archive's first week.
Five English idioms and nothing else — the archive's only day with a single category across the whole board.
Three ordinary idioms, then two d3s that are barely idioms at all: one is administrative, the other is a supermarket aisle.
Four puzzles at d2 and one at d1 — no spike and no gimme. Idioms about calming down and keeping pace.
Opens on a fable and never bites: three d1s in a row make this the softest full board the archive has run.
Opens on the coarsest phrase in the archive, then three steady idioms. The d3 closer is about arriving badly equipped.
Food in three of the five, then a closer lifted from office language rather than the kitchen. The turn is the whole joke.
Starts proverbial and ends modern: the last two are drawn from current culture rather than the language, and both are d3.
Three of the five are lines somebody is famous for saying rather than plain expressions. A different kind of recall.
An easy start, a dish in the middle, then two d3 idioms in a row — one about money, one about giving up.
A d3 closer that also ran the very next day — the archive's only puzzle to appear on consecutive mornings.
The rudest opener the archive has, followed by four idioms about being watched or left out. Ends on the day's hardest.
Four of the five sit at d2 — one easy opener, then no more presents and no wall either. The most even middle in the archive.
Idioms and slang, then a closer that is not an expression at all but a sentence you have almost certainly typed.
Two compounds among the idioms, which changes how the board reads: fewer whole sayings, more single words to build.
Idioms about what gets kept and what gets tied, finishing on a song. One puzzle here returns much later in the archive.
A rare day that does not ease you in: the first puzzle is already a d2, and both closers are d3. Body parts throughout.
Three named dishes in one day — the most food the archive has carried. Easy going until a last puzzle about time.
An ancient proverb up front, then a compound and three idioms. The hardest is an abstraction rather than a picture.
A proverb up front, then a run of puzzles built on twos. The d3 closer is an idiom about thinking, hiding in plain sight.
Four idioms and one song lyric. The closers are short phrases where hearing the emoji beats looking at them.
Opens on a movie line and ends on a set expression. The two hardest are slang and a fixed pair, not idioms — adjust.
Three d1 openers and then a wall: both closers are d3, and one of them is a single word doing an enormous amount of work.
Three idioms, a game title and a compound, none of them cruel. The kind of day that rewards steady reading over cleverness.
The archive's only single-source day: all five are lyrics from the same song. Realising that is most of the battle.
Games and sayings, with the day's hardest puzzle sitting third rather than last. The run-order is doing you no favours.
A saying, two breakfast dishes and two idioms about going along with things. No spike anywhere — the ladder just climbs.
Animals in four of the five. One puzzle here runs again three days later — the earliest repeat in the archive.
Starts on plain idioms and ends on two puzzles where the emoji supply sounds rather than meanings. Read them out loud.
Two named dishes among the five. The back half turns to idioms about doing yourself no favours, both at d2.
Four idioms and an exclamation, every one of them something you have actually heard someone shout. A friendly Monday.
An idiom, a playground game and two dishes, closing on a single compound word so plain that most players overthink it.
Three of the five happen at or near a stove. Eases in, then asks for a long phrase most people can only half recite.
Four sayings and a phrase, nothing exotic. The difficulty is all in spotting which word an emoji is standing in for.
Day two is entirely compound words: two short ideas pushed together until they mean a third thing. The softest set on record.
The first one. A gentle ladder — one easy read, three in the middle, and a closer that makes you rearrange what you thought you had.