mender of Kuttenberg, of Kuttenberg
“I try to keep a clean stoop and an honest house for my Fritz, though God knows it is hard when pennies must do the work of groschen.”
Things Else Meyer had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the third day of May, at None
Lene came by the hearth today and we wept. Three years since the sweating sickness spared our men, and still no walk to Sedletz. Two groschen for beeswax is ruinous, and the roads crawl with Hungarians! Surely the Virgin understands a poor woman's delay.
Nota scribaeShe wiped her hands on her apron so fiercely while dictating that I thought the cloth would tear.
the Monday after Easter, at Terce
Another man banging on my clean door asking for Fritz Meyer! I told him my Fritz is an honest man and the Fritz he wants is my brother-in-law, the so-called merchant. I am weary of turning away his debts. Let him keep his own ledgers.
A simple mistake, sister. The man was supposed to find me at the tavern. No harm done.
I would have chased him off with a broom. You are too gentle, Else.
the feast of the Annunciation, at Vespers
Sat by the door for the light, patching a sleeve, and saw Joan Green pass by. It is a crying shame she still has Albrecht Schmidt's shears since Candlemas. A mender knows the value of good iron. God preserve us from flighty neighbors.
I only borrowed them for a day, Else! I just keep forgetting to walk them back.
If you borrowed my iron, Joan, I would have taken it out of your hide by now.
Nota scribaeDictated in a whisper, lest the neighbors hear.
the Wednesday of the first week of Lent, at Prime
Woke before first light and prayed the embers were alive. Firewood costs three times what it did before the King was taken, and we have only old bread and cabbage for supper. May the saints preserve my Fritz, he works so hard for pennies.
The prices are a sin. The woodcutters ask for silver as if it grows on trees.
Nota scribaeThe woman sighed heavily after every sentence.
the week after Candlemas, at Sext
My husband had a cough this morning and my heart nearly stopped. I know it is God's warning. Three winters since the sweating sickness, and my debt is still unpaid. But how can two women walk to Sedletz alone with the soldiers about?
It was only a tickle in my throat, wife. Do not fret yourself into an early grave.
We must buy the wax soon, Else. I cannot sleep for the fear of it.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
The Virgin is merciful, Else, but I wake in a cold sweat thinking of the fires of hell.
We will go, Lene. When the roads are safe and wax is cheap. I promise.