housekeeper, of Kuttenberg
“I keep my head bowed and my broom moving. A quiet tongue saves a bruised cheek, and the Lord sees every penny saved.”
Things Isabel had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Wednesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
John's temper is blacker than soot today. Heinz's dog Bawty got loose and killed three of neighbour Tobias's laying birds. Tobias is demanding a whole groschen for each bird, and the bailiff's name was spoken. I dare not even scrape the porridge pot too loud tonight.
Nota scribaeDictated in a hurried whisper while she pretended to mend a woolen sock.
the second day of Rogation tide, at Sext
Cabbage is dearer again, but I walked to the lower market and bargained the stallholder down half a penny. I can stretch a groschen further than any woman in this parish. A penny saved is a penny... well, it is put to good use when the time comes.
Teach me your way, Isabel. My man drinks all our silver before the week is out.
the Monday after Easter, at Prime
I lit a candle at Mass for Andreas. He is a gentle lad, meant for his books in Prague, but I have not seen him come for his allowance these many weeks. I sat by the dead hearth at midnight and wrote him a letter, if only I could find a good soul to carry it.
He went to Prague, goodwife. I saw him off myself. No need to fret yourself gray over a scholar.
the second week of Lent, at None
My blood is like ice in my veins. They say William was hanged at the crossroads for a robbery that left a merchant dead. He drank in the taverns with that brute Menhard, and... well, Andreas was sometimes with them. Holy Mother preserve us from bad company.
Hold your tongue about that waste of bread. If he swings next, it saves me feeding him.
God have mercy on my soul, for the rope had none.
Nota scribaeShe wept over her apron strings for an hour before saying this, and kept looking at the door.
Candlemas, at Terce
The frost is bitter, and the shouting in this house never stops. John and Simon are at each other's throats again over the far strip of land. I keep my head bowed and sweep the dirt floor until my arms ache. Best to be quiet when the men are loud.
And you sweep all the dust straight into my herb garden, you clumsy cow. Watch your broom.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It is a good dog, and Tobias is a greedy whoreson to ask a groschen for a dead bird.
And who will have to pluck the bloody things if we are forced to pay for them? Me, as always.