labourer, of Kuttenberg
“I haul rubble and dig for pennies when I ought to be shaping staves. Trouble finds me even when I keep my head down.”
Things Jan Miller had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday after St Mark, at Vespers
Every time I see a soldier at the lower market, my blood turns to ice. The muster is coming, and I wake up in a cold sweat thinking of Heinz's heavy hands. Christ almighty, if that old bastard Godfrey hadn't run to Prague, I'd have the silver by now.
Nota scribaeHe was wringing his hands the whole time he spoke.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
Another morning standing in the cold, watching the Germans pick men for the good jobs. I'm trained for better work than hauling rocks. If I had my drawknife, I'd show them what a proper cooper can do. Instead my hands are blistered from shovelling dirt.
It's the same for all of us, Jan. We just have to take what work we can get.
Stop your whining and be glad you have two hands to dig with.
the eve of Palm Sunday, at None
I saw Richard shaping staves this afternoon. With my iron. He's had it since Candlemas, and every time I ask, he blames William Miller. It cost me twelve groschen and a month of cabbage to buy that tool. I can't work wood with my bare hands.
I told you, Jan. As soon as William gives me back my adze, you'll have your drawknife. A man has to finish his work.
Keep me out of this. I'm using the adze on a roof, and I'm not coming down until it's done.
Nota scribaeDictated near the cooper's shop. He spat on the ground twice.
the Thursday after Ash Wednesday, at Sext
Godfrey the broker shut his door and fled to Prague. They say he took half the town's pawned goods with him. Bloody hell. Now I'm trapped. A padded coat costs more silver than I see in a year, and my ale-score is still heavy around my neck.
The older men said he knew when to leave. I suppose they were right.
He took my good boots, the whoreson.
Candlemas, at Terce
I did a foolish thing. Richard asked to borrow my best drawknife for a week to shape some staves. I didn't want to hand it over, but he swore he'd give it back by Sunday. I pray to St Joseph I haven't made a mistake.
You have my thanks, Jan. I'll take good care of it, you have my word.
Nota scribaeHe rubbed his palms on his breeches while he spoke.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You'd better have my padded jack ready, Jan. I'll need it clean and aired out before the muster.
It's safe in the chest, Heinz. Don't you worry about a thing.