clothes presser for the tailors, of Kuttenberg
“I am a wronged woman, pressing cloth all day while surrounded by thieves who take advantage of good Christian charity.”
Things Enneleyn Thal had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the second day of May, at Vespers
The noise from the Thrush house is splitting my head. Dorothy screaming at her father over that penniless hand-carter Simon again. If she had half a brain she'd shut her mouth and obey, or run off to the baggage train. Some of us have honest work to finish.
Nota scribaeShe touched her chest several times while complaining of the noise.
the Tuesday after St Mark, at None
Klara Carter is weeping across the lane again over a lost silver thimble that belonged to her late mother. I roll my eyes to heaven. Weeping over a trinket when there are children to feed! If she wants something to cry about, she should try working the smoothing iron until her arms ache.
It was my mother Hedvika's! You have a stone where your heart should be.
the eve of St George, at Terce
I see Margaret Preng washing cloth at the well. Taking twice as long as she used to. The girl is getting lazy, plain and simple. Veit and Kethe should beat some sense into her before they all starve. A strong arm is what gets the work done, not dragging your heels.
My hand is broken, you old bat!
the third day of Easter week, at Sext
Magdalena Ebner was shouting in the street again. Demanding her iron back. I told her straight: I am the victim here! That kurva Katherine Braun still has my fine finishing brush. The day Katherine returns my brush, Magdalena gets her iron. I will not be left with empty hands because of thieves.
You hypocrite! Give me my iron! I need it, and you're no better than Katherine keeping it!
And Magdalena still has my brass-handled shears! Why should I give the brush back when I have nothing to cut with?
You are both thieves and I am the only decent woman in this lane!
Nota scribaeShe spoke with great indignation and gripped her collarbone.
Candlemas, at Prime
Lent my fine finishing brush to Katherine Braun today. I lent it in good faith, as a Christian neighbour should. It cost me a month's work to pay for it. I pray she takes care of the bristles and brings it back before Sunday, for I need it for the master tailors' coats.
Aye, thank you, Enneleyn. I'll have it back to you soon enough.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Mind your own business, Enneleyn! You don't know a thing about Simon.
I know he's gone, girl. Now let me press my coats in peace.