mender of fine clothes, of Kuttenberg
“I am a respectable wife and mother, keeping a proper house in Kuttenberg without a speck of dust.”
Things Alice Thrush had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the eve of Corpus Christi, at None
I caught Sarah looking down the lane again. That vagrant Eberhard is in Prague with the levy, and good riddance. I will turn her out before I see my own daughter ruined by a man who only marched off for a free pair of boots. A disgraceful business.
Nota scribaeDictated from her stoop while she pointed a stiff finger at a girl crying indoors.
the Tuesday after St John at the Latin Gate, at Vespers
It is a trial to live among women who bicker over rusted shears and cabbage patches. I saw Grete Mannlicher with dirt beneath her fingernails today. I have scrubbed my step twice since Prime to keep the common filth away from my door.
My dirty nails grew those cabbages you look down your nose at.
A clean stoop is the mark of a God-fearing home, I say.
the third day of Easter week, at Sext
The German merchants brought me three tunics torn by soldiers on the Prague road. I will mend them flawlessly, though they balk at the price of my thread. God knows bread is dearer every week with the kingdom in such a state, and Ralph needs his midday pottage.
The pottage was good today, wife.
Thread costs a fortune since Lent. You are right to charge them.
the second Friday of Lent, at Terce
I found Dorothy listening to the idle gossip of the baker's wife. I sent her straight back to the hearth. A respectable girl does not stand in the street flapping her jaw when there are ashes to be swept and costly candles to preserve.
I was only asking the price of a loaf, stepmother.
We were only speaking of poor Walpurg's lease, God rest her soul.
Nota scribaeShe sighed heavily three times while dictating this complaint.
Candlemas, at Prime
I have forbidden my daughter from speaking to that boy Eberhard. I will not have my unblemished standing ruined because a foolish girl lost her head. We do not air our trials for the street to mock, but I make this known so none will welcome him here.
And I expect you all to tell me if you see him near the butchers' quarter.
He was asking after her at the alehouse before he left.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
He is a brave soldier, mother, and he will come back with silver!
Let the girl breathe, Alice. He's far enough away now.