John

the eve of Pentecost, at Vespers

I wish Anna and Isabel would leave that ruined dough in the past. It was only one silver penny between them, and a bitter wind blows through the alley when they cross paths. A hot oven needs a calm heart.

• 
  Isabel

  It was my silver penny, John, and good dough wasted.

• 
  Anna

  I will speak to her when she learns to keep her mouth closed and her purse shut.

Nota scribaeHe spoke very slowly, considering every word before he let it fall.

the third day of Easter week, at None

The rain is heavy today and a damp chill settles deep in the bones. I keep my right hand tucked in my belt so it stays warm. If the guild saw me drop a heavy sack of grain, they would have me out on the church steps by Sunday.

• 
  Heinz

  I have seen you wince, baker. But the levy list scares me more than a dropped sack.

the Thursday before Palm Sunday, at Prime

I left three stale crusts on the windowsill this morning. I pray the older beggars leave them be. Beatrice is too timid to fight for copper, but she can surely eat a crust if no one is watching.

• 
  Flea-bitten Beatrice

  Bless you, Master John. The crusts were a bit hard, but good.

• 
  Lousy Anna

  She snatched them before I could even get up from the church porch.

the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Sext

I carried the fresh loaves down to the Tavern Svatych today. Else was praying silently over the ale casks again. I do not ask what weighs on her soul, but a good dark loaf and a cup of ale might ease it.

• 
  Else Berg

  The Lord hears me, John, but your bread helps the belly well enough.

Nota scribaeHe offered me a piece of rye while he dictated, which I accepted.

Candlemas, at dawn

The soldiers on the roads make the flour dearer than last winter. We must mix the rye carefully to stretch it. Anna works harder than ten men to keep the shop afloat, and I am grateful for her hands.

• 
  Anna

  We do what we must, John. The fires will not stoke themselves.