wool spinner of Kuttenberg, of Kuttenberg
“I live quietly and spin, trying not to listen to the squabbling in the courtyard.”
Things Matilda Fuller had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
The Wednesday before Whitsun, at None
The toothache is worse. It is the curse, I know it. I must walk to Sedletz to pay my vow to Saint Barbara, but the roads are full of the King's brother's Hungarians. I pray over the spindle but the thread keeps snapping.
Nota scribaeShe rubbed a little wooden cross at her neck the whole time she spoke, breathing fast.
The Tuesday after St George, at Vespers
Christine and Denise are cursing Kubyenka for the roof leaking again. Such earthly anger only invites the devil. I just put my bowl under the drip and said a Pater Noster. The water is a trial sent to test our patience, not a reason to shout.
Patience won't keep your wool dry, you daft hen. My padded jacks are ruined.
I will pray for your temper, Christine. The Lord sees all.
The third day of Easter week, at Prime
I dropped my water pot at the well this morning, and it shattered. The wenches from the market laughed. I know it was not clumsiness. Two winters ago I swore to walk barefoot to the monastery, and I stayed home out of fear. The Lord remembers.
We weren't laughing at you, Matilda, we were laughing at the bailiff's man slipping in the mud!
The feast of Saint Gregory, at Sext
The priest says we must write down our days for the Pope. I hope the Holy Father does not read too closely into my heart. I spin my wool and mind my business, unlike Amice and Elsbeth fighting over pawnshop tickets right outside my window.
Keep my name out of your holy book. That ticket was rightfully mine and you know it.
Nota scribaeShe asked if the Pope can forgive a broken vow by letter. I told her he has better things to read.
The day after Candlemas, at Terce
The sweating sickness took so many two years back, and I was spared. I promised the walk to Sedletz then. Today I saw a mercenary rider on the road and my courage failed again. God forgive me. I will spin an extra skein today as penance.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Buy a grave plot now, Matilda. Humphrey's prices only go up, soldiers or no.