Downstairs, the girl skirted frozen puddles to the outside privy, grateful her sturdy shoes kept her feet dry. Finishing her business, Lizzie added a chamber pot and warmer clothing to her list of items to get. Maybe there’s extra from the guests’ rooms.
Inside the kitchen, Anna’s son added logs to the cook fire.
“Yer late,” he said.
“It’s not light yet.”
“Don’t matter. Ye can’t wait fer sun in winter. I’ll come up an’ bang on your door tamorrow. There’s a mess of vegetables on the counter. You need to chop ’em for the stew.”
Lizzie eyed the iron cauldron that was probably the stewpot. That will be a lot of vegetables. She sighed. “Is there meat to add?”
“Salt pork’s already in the pot. Fill up the rest with potatoes and such. I’ll help ye add the water. Well, don’t stand there gaping. Start chopping or we won’t be ready for dinner.”
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