maidservant at tailor fifle's, of Kuttenberg
“I am the one who keeps this household from falling into the mud. I cook, I scrub, and I manage the master's temper, which is a full day's work on its own.”
Things Matilda had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday before Pentecost, at Vespers
Simon the broker sent word he will sell my mother's silver cross after Pentecost if I do not pay. I thought to bake an apple tart for Father Frantishek's name day to earn a bonus, but the soldiers have bought every barrel in the market. I need six apples from outside the walls, and I cannot leave the hearth.
Nota scribaeShe wiped her hands on her apron the entire time she spoke.
the second day of May, at None
Lord grant me strength. Udo spilled a sack of flour in town and had a falling out with Lorenz the baker's boy. Now Udo stalks around the yard demanding an apology, terrified Lorenz will complain to the bailiff. It is a foolish thing to hold a grudge over.
He called me a whoreson in front of the whole street! I will not let a baker's boy speak to me so.
You dropped the flour in the mud yourself, you clumsy ox.
the third day of Easter week, at Terce
Else has lost the small wooden bird her brother Andreas carved for her before he marched away with the levy. She weeps constantly, thinking she will forget him. I pity the girl and have helped her search the yard, but the crying frays my nerves when there is so much work to be done.
It is all I have left of him. If I do not find it, he is truly gone.
Andreas was a fool for going with the levy. Crying will not bring him back.
Nota scribaeDictated while sweeping the kitchen floor.
the feast of Saint Gregory, at Prime
Udo took Else's copper jug on Saint Blaise's day and still refuses to return it. He says it is because she shrank his linen shirt in the wash. I have never known a man with a head thicker than a church door. We have a household to run.
Candlemas, at Compline
Three winters ago today my mother Margaret died of the winter fever. We had no coin for a proper burial, so I pawned her silver cross to the broker Simon. I have hidden pennies under the floorboards ever since, but Simon says my time is running short.
The church prays for her soul, Matilda. The Lord provides for the pious.
Nota scribaeShe asked that the broker's name be written in small letters.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
A tart would be most welcome, Matilda. The humours of the stomach require sweet things in these troubled times.
I would go look for apples, but I am afraid of the soldiers on the road.