housekeeper at platnerska, of Kuttenberg
“I run this house with a firm hand and a sharp eye. I will not have idlers under my roof.”
Things Berchta had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Wednesday after St Mark, at Prime
Karl died in his bed yesterday. He was a quiet man and a good earner. Now his body lies here washed, and Father Sebastian demands twelve groschen for the abbey's fee. I have but six. I will not beg that fat priest again, but Karl must have a blessed grave.
Nota scribaeShe pointed her finger at my nose while dictating this.
the second day of Easter week, at Vespers
Christina weeps again because that shiftless vagabond Konrad has sent no word from Prague. I told her he ran from his debts and will never send for her. She is a fool to wait for a man who cannot even buy his own boots.
He will send for me! You know nothing of his heart.
Leave it be, Christina. Mother is right, he is gone.
the Thursday after Laetare Sunday, at Sext
Madlen whines from morning to night about the rotting roof over her bed in the outbuilding. I told her to patch it herself. Sister Gerta is locked away at Sedletz and will never pay for the wood, and I have no pennies to spare for lazy maids.
The rain drips right onto my straw! It is not fair.
There is some spare kindling by the yard block. Take that.
Nota scribaeThe maid was scrubbing the floor during the writing and looked very sour.
the first Friday of Lent, at None
The cold makes Anna's hand ache terribly where the bone broke three winters ago. It pains me to see her scrub the heavy pots, but the work must be done. At least my brother John stays out of our way and pays his share from the woodcutting.
It is only a dull ache, Mother. I can manage the pots.
Candlemas, at Terce
I measure every pinch of salt and every handful of flour today. The prices at the market are an outrage, and if I did not watch the stores with a hawk's eye, we would all starve by Easter. I expect everyone under this roof to earn their keep.
Amen to that, Berchta. Bread is dearer than ever.
Nota scribaeDictated in the kitchen while she counted out dried peas.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Four groschen and a jug of ale, Berchta. I can put him by the wall tonight.
Hold your tongue, Joerg. He will not lie in unblessed dirt.
The Cistercians squeeze us all, good woman. I cannot waive another fee this month.