scrubber and piecework seamstress, of Kuttenberg
“I have a sum to reach by Pentecost, and I do not have time for idle chatter.”
Things Pavlena Stern had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday after Saint Urban, at Vespers
Pentecost approaches and the price of bread takes all my copper. I am exactly eight groschen short of the silver pin for Elishka. If anyone has a floor that needs scrubbing or a tunic that needs mending, send for me. I will not stop until the coin is gathered, but I do not work for promises.
Nota scribaeThe woman looked weary and counted on her fingers the whole time she spoke.
the feast of Saint Pancras, at None
Helena is weeping over a carved wooden bird her grandfather gave her. I told her plainly that tears do not sew hems and she should get back to her spinning. But if anyone finds a wooden bird in the yard dust, give it to her so we can all have some peace.
It was a little swallow, Pavlena. And I am trying to spin, truly.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
Emma has taken herself and her loud mouth to Prague. Praise be. The washing bench is quiet at last, though Kona still talks of the ruined apron. Now we can work without someone kicking over the lye buckets.
She owes me for that apron, Pavlena! A perfectly good linen ruined by her clumsy feet!
Wash the next shirt, Kona. The apron is gone and Emma with it.
Nota scribaeDictated while scrubbing a heavy linen shirt, much to my distraction.
the Tuesday after Saint Gregory, at Sext
Master Tobias has given us fine wool to spin today. Elizabeth Wright makes a tidy stitch, the only one here who does not complain of her aching fingers. The rest could learn from her. Edith came for the rent today and I gave her exact coin, not a penny more.
My fingers ache because the room is damp, Pavlena. It is easy for you to judge.
Thank you, Pavlena. I just pray Master Tobias does not look too closely at my left hand.
Candlemas, at Vespers
The snow is thick and firewood is dear. I ate cold porridge today to keep my pennies in my purse. A woman asked me to hem a heavy wool cloak on credit. I told her to come back when her purse jingled. Coin first, or mend it yourself.
It is freezing in our lodging. We cannot all eat cold porridge without shivering to death.
Nota scribaeThe woman smiled grimly when she recounted her refusal.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You do too much, sister. I will marry happily without silver in my hair.
You will have the pin, Elishka, or I will scrub this town to the bedrock.