sweeper and errand woman, of Kuttenberg
“I do what I must to put bread in my mouth, and if others call it theft, they should try starving first.”
Things Edith Wood had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Terce
Martha Clark is begging me to sit by Margery's bed, but I won't do it. The woman has the sweating fever. I remember well how her mother Elizabeth died of the very same thing three years ago. Let Martha sit with her. Margery stole my shears anyway.
Nota scribaeShe rubbed her arms the whole time she spoke, as if freezing.
the second day of Easter week, at Vespers
Elishka Stern is furious over a simple copper plate. She acts as if I robbed the King's mint! She already has a hoard of coin for her weaver's frame, and I needed flour to live. She should be glad her plate went to a Christian stomach.
It was not yours to pawn! Give me my plate back or I fetch the bailiff!
I don't have it. Ask the pawnbroker.
the eve of St George, at Prime
If Cecily Baker won't hire me to fetch four tallow candles, she can fetch them herself. It's all because of Martha Clark making a fuss about that padded jack. I pawned it to eat! Martha has enough groschen to buy another for the militia muster.
That jack cost good groschen! You are a thief, Edith, and the whole street knows it.
I wouldn't trust you with a single penny, let alone my family's candles.
Nota scribaeDictated near the bread ovens. She would not look me in the eye.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at None
My landlord is demanding his rent again. How am I to pay him when I cannot cut cloth? Nobody has proper seamstress work for me, so I must haul ash all day. My hands are blistered and the flour is dearer than last year.
It is a hard spring for us all, Edith. My brother Peter writes of high prices in Prague too.
Candlemas, at Sext
I lent my best heavy shears to Margery Wood this morning, just to be neighbourly. Now she claims she still has winter cloth to cut and won't hand them back. Those shears cost me a month's work. How am I supposed to earn a living now?
Hold your peace, Edith. I will return them when the cloth is cut.
Nota scribaeShe whined terribly about the loss.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You have a cold heart, Edith Wood. She is dying!
And I would be dying too if I caught it. Leave me be.