ore washer at stamping mill, of Kuttenberg
“I stand in freezing water all day for four groschen a week, and my hands are too ruined for any man to want me.”
Things Barbara had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
My fingers are cracked raw from the sorting troughs again. I asked Alice to stir the cabbage soup tonight, for I cannot even hold the wooden spoon without weeping. A woman's hands should not look like boiled roots.
Nota scribaeShe held up her hands for me to see. They looked ordinary enough.
the feast of Saint Mark, at None
Peter docked me half a groschen today because a stone slipped my fingers. The German has eyes like a hawk and no heart at all. Thank the Lord that Kunigunde spoke up for me, or he would have taken a whole penny.
Keep your head down and work faster, Barbara. I will not always be there to save your wage.
the second day of Easter week, at Terce
Juliana is weeping over her deaf mother in Kolin again. Christ almighty, we all have our burdens. My back still aches from those iron pots at Maleshov, but you do not hear me wailing about it every Sunday. She ought to keep her mouth shut.
My mother Eleanor has no one else! You have no heart, Barbara.
The old woman does not even know you are gone, Juliana. Save your tears.
Nota scribaeDictated over the sound of another woman crying in the yard.
the feast of Saint Gregory, at Prime
People are still whispering about Standa the carter and that sunken wheel. Let it be known I was at the very back of the line the whole day. I had nothing to do with the cart getting stuck, nor his torn gut. Look to the others if you want someone to blame.
He was a stubborn fool who worked himself to death over a muddy wheel. Let the dead rest.
You were at the back of the line because you refused to pull your weight, as always.
Nota scribaeShe spoke very fast and laughed nervously at the end.
Candlemas, at Compline
My bones are still frozen from sleeping under carts in the rain last autumn. And I am still waiting for Else to make amends. She left me struggling with the heavy washing pots while she dug in the mud for dropped groschen. I will not forget it.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I stirred your soup, but you managed to hold your ale cup at the tavern well enough.
The ale numbs the pain, Alice.