townsman's wife and accountant, of Kuttenberg
“I manage the accounts at the Cisare Karla tavern. I keep the ledgers exact, the carters honest, and my household respectable.”
Things Christina Schreiber had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
I will not have it. Hermann thinks he can bring some penniless girl into our family and soil the Schreiber name. I told him plainly that as long as I draw breath, there will be no such match. A townsman's son must marry suitably, not cast himself into the dirt.
Nota scribaeShe tapped her finger on the ledger the entire time she spoke.
the third day of Easter week, at None
The carters tried to overcharge for the brewing malt again today. I made them measure it out twice before my eyes. They think because Wilhelm is away, a woman cannot count groschen. Betty helped me haul the sacks, praise the Lord for her strength.
Any time, Christina. They are thieves, the lot of them.
the Tuesday after Saint Gregory, at Terce
Sarah Cook spilled ale near my boots and looked at me as if I were the one at fault. It has been two years since the Moravian levy, and still she whispers lies about Prokop. I did not tell that stubborn fool to wander off to the creek to be killed.
He was burning with fever! You ordered him to fetch water because you would not spare a cup of yours. God saw what you did.
I will not bicker with you like a fishwife. He chose his path.
Nota scribaeShe asked me to write this quietly so the other women would not hear.
the eve of Saint Matthias, at Sext
Else missed a spot of grease near the hearth. I had her scrub it until the stones were clean enough to eat from. Chaos in the tavern leads to chaos in the strongbox. Everything must be orderly, or we are no better than the beasts in the forest.
I am sorry, mistress. My knees were aching, but I will not miss it again.
Candlemas, at Prime
Another month begins, and the accounts balance to the very farthing. William Grey’s stew is keeping the taproom full, even if the man grumbles louder than the patrons. If only managing a family were as simple as adding up a column of coppers.
You have a good eye, Christina. The tavern owes you much.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Amen to that. My Geoffrey is just as foolish with that washerwoman's girl. They have no sense in their heads.
Mother, you do not even know her. She is a good Christian soul.
A good Christian soul does not pay the baker, Hermann. Do not speak of it again.