Blogs

April 18, 1680

April 18, 1680

At port.
 
I am never letting one of Aunt Fanny's girls cook for me again. Spent most of last nights watch in the head. Next morning Fanny found one of her customers robbed blind. He would have been dead had I not heard the creeping footsteps of the young woman who fed me.
She called it Chille or some Spanish stew. Had more spice than one of Myfanwy's poultice bindings and had more beans than the local trading post.
Fanny gave the girl quite a switch but didn't cast her out. I get to keep my posting.
I treated myself to some fresh pork and potatoes from the market.

April 16,1680

 

April 16,1680
 
At port.
Taxes taxes taxes! Bloody crown asking 10 shillings from me just to earn me living. 
There'll be a revolution I tell ya!
Speaking of earning a living, I managed to avoid the chopping block with the rescue of a wee notebook. 
That'll learn me to leave me black book in me waistcoat on wash day. Skipper would have me tackle for breakfast.
The local redcoats were out and about. I kept to myself and they didn't recognize me.
 
Syndicate content