caraway and poppy seed seller, of Kuttenberg
“I sell seed at the southern trestles, though with my husband Hannes making fine wooden bowls, I hardly need the groschen.”
Things Barbara Hartung had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Cecily now wants me to ask my brother-in-law Hermann to send word to Prague with the royal riders from the mint. Her aunt Amice is likely dead of the plague, God rest her, and I will not look like a begging fool in front of my husband's kin. The girl must learn to leave busy men be.
Nota scribaeThe dictating was interrupted twice by her sighing heavily at a passing maidservant.
the feast of Saint Stanislaus, at Terce
Mabel is weeping again. This time over a pewter jug she claims Emma took. The girl brings it on herself entirely. If she had married a man with a trade instead of wandering after the baggage train to Suchdol last year, she would have peace and a hearth of her own.
It was my jug! Emma took it just like she took poor Havel's coat in the mud.
Hold your tongue, Mabel, or I will turn you out of the shed. And you mind your own caraway, Barbara.
the eve of Saint George, at None
It is a shameful thing when a girl steals from her friends to pay for a baker's boy. Cecily is missing a padded jack and a kettle hat, and Anna thinks we do not know she took them to Juliana's cellar for thirty groschen. Disgraceful behaviour.
Osbert needed the silver to buy out his apprenticeship! I will pay Cecily back when he is a master baker.
You had no right, Anna! Juliana has it locked away and her interest is ruinous.
Nota scribaeShe dictated this while inspecting her fingernails for dirt.
the Tuesday of Easter week, at Sext
My Hannes sent a wagon to Kolin this morning, full of his best carved spoons. Cecily came begging me again to have the carter take a letter to Prague for her aunt. Kolin is not Prague! I am tired of saying it to her.
The carter could find someone in Kolin going the rest of the way! You know I am sick with worry.
I will not have Hannes's hired hands wandering the muddy roads of Bohemia looking for your aunt.
Candlemas, at Prime
The wind at the southern trestles cuts right through a body today. I brought a slice of good warm bread from home, though. I let the other girls drink Juliana's watered ale, I have no need of it when I have a proper hearth to go back to at dusk.
You can keep your good bread, Barbara, but keep your nose out of our storage shed too.
Nota scribaeThe woman took pains to ensure I wrote 'good warm bread' distinctly.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You are a cruel woman, Barbara! Hermann knows the riders, it would cost him nothing to ask.
Keep that weeping girl away from the mint, sister. We have enough trouble weighing the king's silver without crying over someone's aunt.