seamstress of the lower alleys, of Kuttenberg
“I do the finest finishing work in Kuttenberg and the masters pay me double for it. If my hems do not unravel, it is because I know my worth.”
Things Cecily Miller had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Kunigunde fainted in the yard today. I told her the dead care nothing for carved rocks, and if she buys bread instead of saving for Kona's headstone, she might live to sew another hem. The old laundress never smiled anyway.
Nota scribaeShe sniffed loudly and inspected her nails while saying this.
the second day of Easter week, at None
The light is perfect today, and these Nuremberg shears cut wool like butter. Isolde Weaver asked if I had finished with them yet. I told her my commission is too important to risk with dull blades. Good work requires good light and the best iron.
It has been two months since Candlemas. I need my shears back to earn my own keep.
When the work is done, Isolde. Do not fret so loudly in front of the masters.
the Friday before Palm Sunday, at Prime
Widow Clemence sent her girl out to collect the yard penny. The old bat is bedridden but still grasps for every coin. I saw Johanka drop her needle again. If the masters see her left hand is useless, she will be out begging in the mud.
I dropped it because my fingers were cold. My hems are fine.
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted twice because she waved her hands and upset my inkwell.
Saint Gregory's day, at Terce
Milena is weeping over that wooden dove again. Edward is dead in the dirt, and tears will not bring him out of the deep mines. I stitched three ells of fine linen while she blubbered into her apron. Weep on your own time, I say.
Have some pity, Cecily. The poor girl's heart is broken in two.
Candlemas, at Sext
I have a heavy wool hem to cut today and my own blades are terribly dull. I asked Isolde Weaver to lend me her Nuremberg shears just for the afternoon. I am doing the finest work here, so it is only right I use the proper tools.
Just for the afternoon, Cecily. Mind you do not drop them.
Nota scribaeShe said this very loudly while looking directly at the Weaver woman across the room.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
My mother scrubbed her hands to the bone for us. She deserves to be remembered properly in the churchyard.