Grete Schreiber

the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Terce

My father came up from the tailor quarter to see the stock. I had to throw an empty sack over a ruined bolt of blue wool before he walked in. If he sees what the rain has done to it, he will be furious.

• 
  Wilhelm Schreiber

  I thought the blue felt damp to the touch, girl. Why are there sacks on the boards?

• 
  Grete Schreiber

  It was only the morning dew, Father. The air is very wet today.

the feast of Saint John before the Latin Gate, at Sext

Lady Anna is still talking about how Milada the baker's wife shook flour on her cloak at Easter. A bit of flour is nothing. Try having half the shingles gone from your ceiling and the sky looking right at your best linen.

• 
  Anna of Wysoka

  It was deliberate disrespect to my station, Grete! The baker's wife knew exactly what she was doing.

• 
  Matilda Gold

  Tell her to come sleep in my wet cellar. The melons are rotting from the damp.

Nota scribaeDictated while the merchant smoothed her sleeves repeatedly.

the third day of Easter week, at None

Standa bought me a drink but spent the whole time saying John fell asleep when Vitek drowned in the ditch on the Suchdol road. John says the boy was just drunk. I only want them to buy a new tunic and leave me in peace.

• 
  Standa

  He was supposed to be watching the lad! Vitek was like a brother to me.

• 
  John

  The boy drank three pitchers and wandered off in the dark. Leave it be, Standa.

the Wednesday after Laetare Sunday, at Vespers

Hermann and I must carry the heavy bolts back and forth from the rear room every morning now. The agent still will not pay for the roof out of his own purse, and Casper has not answered my letter from Prague.

• 
  Matilda Gold

  I told you, hold back the rent! That will make the old man answer his letters.

• 
  Hermann Schreiber

  My back is still sore from moving the big rolls yesterday.

Nota scribaeThe woman sighed heavily before she spoke.

the first Friday of Lent, at Prime

A terrible wind took half the wooden shingles from the roof of the front room. The sky is open above the shop boards. I had to drag the finest weaves into the back room so they would not spoil in the rain.