head of the household, of Kuttenberg
“I keep the house at Radnicni twenty-one in proper order. A spotless yard is all I ask.”
Things Anna Vogel had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at None
The price of flour has risen again. I count every groschen three times over before taking it to the market. Let the soldiers march all they like, but they are eating us out of house and home. Denise dropped a penny in the dirt today and I made her sift the mud until Compline to find it.
Nota scribaeShe counted her coins the entire time she spoke.
the feast of St Philip and St James, at Vespers
Andreas the mason and his wife look over my fence as if they own the street. Their boy Hermann is a capable saddler, but if Christina thinks my Denise is waiting on their charity, she is sorely mistaken. We have no grand dowry, but our name is spotless. Keep your eyes on your own yard, Christina.
I meant no disrespect, Goodwife Anna. I only looked over to see if the fence needed mending.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Hans the parish clerk was seen walking down the street with his tally rolls. He looks at every door as if we are hiding silver under the floorboards. We owe nothing that we cannot pay. I would rather eat plain meal for a month than have a clerk shout my name in the square.
Hans is a hard man, but you run a tight ship. He will find no fault at number twenty-one.
the eve of the Annunciation, at Sext
I am told Kethe has finally packed her bags and gone to Prague. Good riddance. Since Martinmas she has done nothing but glare at me at the well, all because I took a wet scrubbing rag to her when she insulted my daughter. I was in the right, and the Lord has rewarded me with a quiet street.
You are a bitter woman, Anna Vogel, and your yard is not as clean as you think.
Go and trouble your son in Prague. You are not missed here.
Nota scribaeDictated at the well. She smiled when she said the name Kethe.
Candlemas, at Terce
The priest says we must write our days down for the Day of Judgment. The Lord will find my doorstep swept and my larder accounted for. I only hope He takes note of those who spend their mornings daydreaming at the gate instead of fetching the water. Are you listening, Denise?
I fetched the water before the bells rang, mother.
Nota scribaeShe inspected the doorstep very closely before speaking.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It is the same for leather, Anna. We must hold tight to what we have.
My knees are still stained from the mud.