Zach

Diary Of Ms.Talktumuch Dear Diary

This is total bull sugar. My life was crap back in France, I was poor and had no family, So I thought I might as well get on this boat headed to new France. So it’s been four weeks and I am finally getting of this cold damp ship. I will find myself a rich young hard working man to please me and keep me warm at night. As I step off the boat there are many men waiting to see the women arrive. One man in the back of the crowd catches my eye. He was gorgeous, but like all men he was married; I knew eventually he would be mine. In the mean time I must find a man to live with and supply a home, food and a warm bed. Then once he returns he will be mine. I started searching for the richest man I could find. I see a plump fellow eating a great feast in a beaver hat. He was no siegneur but he would do until I stole my real love. It was time to work my magic. I adjusted my braw and I walked by and dropped my bracelet. As I bent over to pick it up my bracelet my skirt flew up. I had his attention we sat down and talked, one thing led to another and the next thing I knew it was morning and I was laying in his bed. He would be fine until the one I truly loved returns. We had eggs and salted ham for breakfast and he said he would be back he had to choose a chicken to cook for dinner. He asked me to collect fire wood from around back to start a fire. I wasn’t really a working girl but if I wanted to stay I knew I had to keep pleasing him.

Diary Entry 2

Dear diary

Its been three weeks since my husband proposed to me. My fingers are sore from mending my husbands work clothes, and also from making new sheets and quilts. For tomorrow I need to start and new rugs (just my luck). Its not all bad though, me and my husband are invited to dinner with one of his old friends from France in a week. I'm especially happy because he said that I could choose a new dress rather then the ragged one I wore when I first got here. I will also get to show it off when I go to church this Sunday. Just as I finished the last quilt my husband comes in with a cut leg. He was cutting up fire wood and missed the wood and clipped the side of is calf (clumsy fat man). I cleaned it with a clean rag and bandaged it up. He gave me kiss on the cheek and said “thanks love” then returned working: all I could think of was the man I saw on the first day though and when he will return from his trip. In the mean time the next thing on my list getting those rugs done.

Neering, Rosemary. //Life in New France//. Vancouver: Fitzhenry, 1976. Print.
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