hired hand of Zhelejov, of Zhelejov
“I do the heavy lifting here. The good Lord gave me the shoulders for it.”
Things John had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Pentecost, at Vespers
Took down an old oak today. I did the work of two men, hauling the timber myself. Roger had a task elsewhere, so I put my shoulder to the yoke. I stretch a little more in the mornings, but my strength is true as ever.
Nota scribaeHe stretched his back no less than five times while dictating this.
the second Tuesday after Easter, at None
William and Maresh are still not speaking over those spilled oats. I simply step around them. There is too much plowing to do to waste breath on quarrels. Thomas left a few sacks, so I hauled them to the store myself.
Easter Monday, at Prime
I remember mistress Beatrice today. She put poultices on my back when the cold set in, and the farm lost its heart when she went into the ground. God rest her soul. Christine keeps her memory well.
I pray for her every Sunday. She made sure the roof was patched and the porridge had meat.
Nota scribaeHe removed his hat and bowed his head at the late lady's name.
the feast of Saint Gregory, at Sext
Saw a fat hare while hauling timber near the lower field. I loosed a shaft and took it clean. I have not lost my eye for the bow. It will make a good stew for the lads tonight.
the week after Candlemas, at Terce
The cold makes the old ache in my spine bite harder, from that stump I pulled ten winters ago. But I took no rest. If Old Olbram sees a man standing idle, he might turn him out to beg on the roads. I swallowed the groans and worked.
You work harder than any of us, John. God sees it.
Nota scribaeDictated in a low rumble near the outbuildings. The man moved slowly.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Aye, you have my thanks for the help with the heavy sacks today, John.
We all must do our share for the master, Roger. Keep your hand safe.