housekeeper at Dum farm, of Suchdol
“I am the mistress of Dum farm, keeping this place running while my husband frets over pennies. Without my sharp tongue, it would fall to pieces in a week.”
Things Juliana had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at None
That arrogant merchant Coleman is still weeping over the boundary stone between our yards. He claims I moved it in the night! Christ almighty, the spring thaw heaved the stone on its own. I will not return his spade until he begs my pardon for calling me a thief.
Nota scribaeShe shouted this over the fence while the merchant was in his own yard. My ears are ringing.
the third day of May, at Prime
Isabel broke another pitcher at the well this morning, and Alice moves slower than a leaking cart. Lord rest old Lidka, she knew how to keep housemaids in line before the shaking fever took her three winters past. Now I am left with a yard full of bickering fools.
the Tuesday of Easter week, at Vespers
John sits by the hearth every evening counting the few groschen in his lockbox. He scowls over unpaid wages and the terrible harvest. We have barely enough cabbage left. I told him to put the box away and let me do the shouting at the hired hands.
Shouting does not make bread cheaper or fill the purse, Juliana.
Nota scribaeThe husband looked very tired while she said this.
the second Friday of Lent, at Terce
William and Robert are at it again, fighting over a bone-handled knife instead of mending fences. With the King held captive and soldiers turning the roads to mud, bread is dearer than ever. We have real troubles, and these whoresons want to brawl in the dirt.
Candlemas, at Sext
I borrowed Robert Coleman's best iron spade to dig out the drainage ditch behind the barn. He has been demanding it back all week. The ditch is not finished, and his crisp accounting makes my blood boil. The tool is misplaced in the shed anyway. He can wait.
I need it for the spring planting. Have your man bring it to my gate today.
The shed is locked and I have lost the key for the day. God grant you patience.
Nota scribaeShe dictated this while holding a very clean iron spade.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Stones do not walk two paces on their own, Juliana. Return my spade and move the marker back.
Wife, please, just give him the iron back so we can have peace.
Keep quiet, John. You show weakness and they will eat you alive.