master of Pach, of Kuttenberg
“I provide the bread for this house, and my blood kin owe me their sweat.”
Things John had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at None
That wealthy neighbour Tobias still demands three silver groschen for the laying birds that Heinz's wretched dog killed. I went to him in secret and said he could keep the dog, but he refused. Christ's wounds, he'll bring the bailiff on my house over a few feathers and I have not got the silver.
Nota scribaeDictated in a shout. He pointed his finger at my inkwell the entire time.
the third day of Easter week, at Vespers
Walked the far strip today. I am tearing up Anna's weeds and Simon's turnips tomorrow. My father left this land to me as the eldest three winters ago. They can glean the edges after harvest, but they have no business planting my soil.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Sext
Caught Isabel leaving ash on the hearth again. Half the day she spends praying, the other half scrubbing like a blind woman. I am glad her worthless son Andreas is gone. A waste of good bread he was, drinking his allowance with hired hands.
I pray the Lord grants you a gentler heart, husband.
I'm better off anywhere than under your roof.
We paid for our own ale, John.
the first week of Lent, at Prime
Soldiers on the roads and bread dearer than last year, yet my brothers Simon and Heinz eat as if the harvest was doubled. I ought to throw them both into the dirt to fend for themselves. This is my house and my bread.
Aye, the Hungarians make everything harder. Keep your fences mended, John.
Nota scribaeThe dictating of this complaint took until Terce, owing to his temper.
Candlemas, at Prime
The priest says we must write our days down. Very well. Let the Lord read that I am the master of Pach, and I expect those under my roof to pull their weight. My boots must be clean by first light, and my porridge hot.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Three groschen, John. Silver, not your brother's mongrel.
Bawty is a good dog. You had no right offering him to anyone.