Alyce,” she breathed. Alyce sounded clean and smart. You could love someone maned Alyce. She looked back at the face in the water. “This is me, Alyce.” It was right. So the newly called Alyce shifted the pack on her shoulders, and with her head back and bare feet solid on the ground, she headed back to the midwife’s cottage and never noticed when it grew dark, for heat and light were within her.

I have developed a rash on my body where the rough cloth rubs on my skin. I wanted to take a bath, thinking that the dirt on my skin made the rash worse, but the bathing tub has been turned upside down and is being used as an extra table in the kitchen and i cannot have it until spring, so I just spread goose grease on my rash. The dogs are following me everywhere.

I watched the early morning light pass over and through the windows of colored glass, leaving streaks of red and green and yellow on the stone floor. When I was little, I used to try and capture the colored light. I thought I could hold it in my hand and carry it home. Now I know it is like happiness – it is there or it is not, you cannot hold it or keep it.

I cannot be a monk, nor a crusader, nor a tumbler. I must stay here and hem sheets until I die. My humors are greatly out of balance. I prescribe for myself wormwood and spiced wine and some of the custard left from supper, and I will let all of the dogs sleep in my bed.

Minds, like diapers, need occasional changing.

My mother makes the best cider in Lincolnshire. She swears it is because she always includes a number of rotten apples in the mix. I was wondering if this could be true of people – if the world needs a few rotten people to make the sweetest mix. This would explain the problem of God allowing evil in the world.

Seems to me God made a big mistake when He failed to put handles on watermelons.

I want to remake the world; anything less is not worth the trouble.

Corpus Bones! I utterly loathe my life.

Just because you don’t know everything don’t mean you know nothing.