It is harder than it was before – a half-day a month away from my duties, although there is nowhere for me to go with my wee Mary, except to walk to the nearby park and feed the pigeons. She is getting heavier and heavier, and a load to carry, let me tell you!
We spend most of my free time together in our little room. I tell her stories and sing to her, and she smiles and laughs at me. Her little stock of nightshirts and nappies are easily washed and dried in this warm weather, but I shudder to think what I will do to keep her warm in winter. I have no material to sew for her, nor any blankets other than the things we brought with us when we left the sisters. I must continue to nurse her as long as I can, at least until I can feed her some of the oatmeal porridge I prepare every day.
When I am sent to the market in the morning for the daily provisions I carry Mary in a sort of sling, so as to free my hands for carrying the food. Several of the merchants, especially the greengrocer, have grown fond of her, and always treat us kindly. The baker told me yesterday I would not be able to carry her much longer. “I have something you can use at the house,” he told me,“ Our children are grown. I’ll see if it’s still in the attic tonight.”
It warmed my heart that some people are kind to us. Most of Mrs.Adam’s friends act as if I don’t even exist, or if they do, talk about me as if I was deaf, just as Mrs. Markam did. I will not be a skivvy again if I can help it, and my daughter never will be.
No comments:
Post a Comment