works the far strip, of Kuttenberg
“I am the only one in this household who knows what a hard day's work is. Let the others sleep and drink; I tend the dirt, and the dirt is mine.”
Things Elsbeth Fischer had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Fritz pawned his good boots today and expects me to feed him. I told him he can eat the dirt he never hoes. The far strip is mine, and until the bailiff seals it, Nickel is not getting his stamping die back.
Nota scribaeDictated at the town gate. The woman was caked in mud and refused to wash before speaking.
the feast of St Pancras, at None
Caught Ursel staring across the yard at John again instead of helping with the oats. The man is terrified of the muster roll and would flee the levy if a dog barked at him, but she thinks he's a knight. More work for my hands.
I was checking the sky for rain, not looking at anyone. Mind your own business.
I am not terrified of any roll. I just have duties here.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
The ground is finally thawing, but the price of bread is daylight robbery because of those soldiers on the roads. I ate my cabbage and went out to the strip before the rest of them even stirred. Nickel's back is hurting him again, though he won't say it.
I made sure there was enough cabbage for everyone. If Apollonia hadn't kicked over my bucket, the wash would be done too.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Sext
Zdenyek Miller is still whining outside our house about his mother Madlen. He borrowed a polishing stone from Mathes at Candlemas and still hasn't given it back. If they spent half as much time working as they do loitering, they might have a groschen to their names.
I need the stone for my work, and I will write to my mother when I have the coin for a scribe.
Keep the stone, Zdenyek, just stop weeping on my stall.
Nota scribaeShe spoke this very fast, with her arms crossed tightly the entire time.
Candlemas, at Compline
Fritz brought up the far strip at supper again. Father should have divided it properly before the winter fever took him in ninety-nine, instead of leaving it to the three of us to fight over like dogs. I took the stamping die from Nickel's bench today. Let them try and take it back.
So it was you. Return it at once, Elsbeth. Father was a fair master, you are just a thief.
Write up my deed and I'll think about it.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Give me the die, Elsbeth. My commission is stalled and you are making a fool of this house.
When the deed is in my name, you can have your toy.
It is my land by right of age, you bitter shrew.