The mother of mine husband has dwelt with us and our eleven children these eight summers. I think it not unreasonable to expect her to assist in the housewifery, to earn her daily bread.
Nothing of great trouble, just keeling the pots, going down to the river to wash the linen, herding the geese and restoring the thatch on our hovel.
She is an aged crone of six and forty but has been sprightly and willing up until this last twelve month. But she is lately neglecting her household tasks, and forsooth, has taken to wandering about at night out on the Heath.
She is bringing all sorts of leaves and flowers into the hovel, which she does boil in a cauldron on the fire and causes all sorts of stincke.
She has procured a catte from I know not where; admittedly, he is of some use for the vermin. She has filled the hovel with her stones and herbs, so that we scarce canst move.
I have heard her muttering strange words in the night when we are at slumber, and also noise of wild and unseemly mirth.
I am sorely tried by these, as I fear that her wits are becoming addled due to her great age, and she will become a burden, which will then be my lot.
I already have the children, the fowl and the goat in my charge, and I can do no more.
Mine husband, of course, cares little about any of this, and will do nothing. He toils from dawn till dusk in the fields, and does not see what I do.
AIBU to approach the nunnery? The sisters take in those who need such tender care.
(If I am an honest woman, it would also be pleasant to have the bedde to ourselves and the four youngest, too.)