housekeeper at Dum five, of Suchdol
“I keep the hearth and feed fourteen mouths at Dum number five. The times are hard, but the floor is swept.”
Things Anna had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the eve of Pentecost, at Vespers
That miserable dog Kudla slipped his rope again. I took two fresh sweet loaves next door to Beatrice before she could fetch the bailiff over her dead fowls. Holy Mother, if Jan has to pay a fine, we will be eating grass.
Nota scribaeShe brought the loaves to the dictation to prove their sweetness.
the Tuesday after St Mark, at None
The rain has set a wicked fire in my right hand. It aches to the elbow when I lift the churn. I rub it in my apron so Jan does not see. I wish old Bozhena were still living, her foul weeds might ease these crooked bones.
Wrap it in a cloth soaked in warm vinegar, Anna. My aunt swore by it.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
The older hands grow loud by the fire, asking after their silver. I gave John and Nicholas an extra ladle of pottage to quiet them. Poor Thomas is terrified of the parish clerk, and Jezhek is sleeping in a ruined shed. I slipped them the heel of the bread.
Pottage is well and good, mother, but a man cannot drink it at the alehouse.
If Peshek comes for the parish dues, tell him I died of the flux.
Nota scribaeShe spoke so softly I could barely hear her over the ringing of the church bell.
the feast of St Gertrude, at Sext
They say the Hungarian soldiers are on the roads again. Jan is sick with worry over the debts, and fears we will be cast out of the farm his father William built. I scrubbed the kettles with sand until they shone. The floor is clean, whatever comes.
The soldiers will not take Dum five while I have breath, daughter.
Keep your doors barred at night. The roads are not safe for honest folk.
Candlemas, at dawn
Up before the sun to draw water and break the ice in the bucket. Fourteen mouths to feed and the flour bin is running low. I swept the ashes from the oven with the birch broom and mixed the dough. Praise be, the roof did not leak in the night.
I will help you draw the water tomorrow, mother, if I can wake.
Sleep while you can, child. The work will wait for you soon enough.
Nota scribaeDictated while she kneaded dough. My ledger is covered in flour.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Next time he takes one of my hens, I will wring his neck myself, sweet bread or no.
I told you to tie the knot tighter. We have no coin for fines.