On this second day of November, in the Year of Our Lord XLV from Sybilla of Blackwater most heartfelt greeting! Tis a glorious day and the raggedy clouds dance across the azure sky. Though our good priest does say tis against Gods will, still I cannot help seeing shapes and faces in the high wisps. Alas, I shall have to confess this and do a heavy penance I suppose. All Hallows Night passed safely for us. The men took turns standing guard at the walls and holding vigil against foul spirits, while we womenfolk and the younglings gathered in the Great Hall of the Keep and slept or not as we were able, I not at all. Dawn came, by the grace of God and the interventions of Our Lady of Heaven. We laid many flowers upon the altar in the little church then and burnt much sweet wood and gave praise. After that we broke our fast and began to prepare for the Feast of All Saints. In confidence, I tell you, it vexes me sorely when one High Day follows hard upon the backbone of another, but I know nothing of the devices of God and can only strive to do his will. This too I will have to confess and yet more penance I am most sure. It has turned hard autumn all of a night it seems. Killing frost took two of the Widow Knox’s hens last night and one of the Wallachia-born swine took a lung fever of it and perished which I find odd it being so cold there but again the will of God is dim to me. The hips of the roses are ripe now though, and we will have a gathering party this afternoon for these and for the last of the wheat berries and what mushrooms we can still find. I must not write or long though. A rider came in late last night and will take this, but will not stay past mid-morn. Fare ye well, where so ever thou farest.
I quickly add that six Sisters of the church arrived afoot less that a candles mark ago. Father Lucas has granted them shelter as is proper, yet I am uneasy of them and do not know why