Rebecca

Name: Jodi Owl Age: 36 Gender: Female Occupation: Paris Shop Owner Social Class: Third estate Financial situation: Poor Appearance: Bruneete, curly long hair, Brown eyes Daily routine: 6:00 am awake, 6:30 done getting ready, 7:00 make breakfeast for kids, 8:00 eat with family , 11:00 walk to shop , 12:30 open shop Personality/Quirks/Unique Personality Traits: Shy, quiet, obedient, loves bread... Like really loves bread. Past/individual-family history: Unkown real mother and father. Lost when child and raised by two loveable bread shop owners in paris. Family: Mother passed away when i was 17. Father executed when he revolted against the king, thus recieved a sealed letter. One son named johnathan owl 18 years old. Social relations with your own and other classes (people you deal with or know about in other classes, AND your opinions and feelings about them): Poor peasants come to store and beg for food, taxers are cruel people who beat people like me up for taxes, we wear poor clothing just so taxers wont make us pay as much, majority of coustomers are poor people/ Religion: catholic Education: recieved no education Style of speaking in France: Languages you speak: French Main privileges and/or conflicts:Nothing. Poor-taxes everywhere <-This is me thinking about bread... Dairy: 1 After full filling my foster parents hope of me marring a somewhat handsome man who is absolutely a great father. I am sad to say this is the day that they have past away, hoping they are having a wondrous day in the underworld. Ever since I received the phone call from the morgue, that my father has been executed and my mother has past away. I’ve been having dreams and nightmare of my real parents. Sometimes I can see my real mother and fathers face so clear and close that I knew who she was. In my dreams she would be singing songs like, “little baby, go to sleep, when you wake, I’ll be here.” But as I awake, her comforting image just vanishes away from deep thoughts of clouded air. As I try to recall my memories, tears start dripping down my face. My husband tries to acknowledge the fact that I am upset and tries to give me space, but he cares too much for me so he then takes the kids to another room while comforting me. After such a dramatic tragic morning, my husband and I separated into two plans. I was to feed the kids and open the shop as usual while he goes to the farm and picks up our crops. But this day was abnormally different. He walked through the doors empty handed with dirt all covered up on him. With a limping right leg and a shattered broken arm bleeding, I saw with agony and ran towards him and immediately asked what happened. The two words he said before he fainted was, “The Landowners”. I was so close to insanity with them. All the frustration of money earning for myself just to feed the kids! As I laid him husband down on the bench with dough of bread that is raw for cushioning as a pillow for him. As I slowly approach the door to enter my store again, I find two tax people encroaching upon my desk as where I laid my things. I pretended I didn’t recognize them and asked, “Hello is there anything you need help with?” All they said was were here to collect your taxes. I tried talking it off with them but refusal was the result. So I obeyed the rules and paid the amount that was said. Of course I treated them nicely or else I might end up just like my father. Basically, today we collected no crops. Meaning neither barley nor wheat for newly baked bread so now all we have are stale bread. As customers start rolling in, my income increases. But yet has not pass the amount that is enough to expand my shop or to even make my families belly full. Speaking of families, I remembered something about my son trying to steal food from one of my customers. I better remember to ask him and probably need to write up a proposal. “Uoohhhh”. A sound where my husband laid uprised. Louder each echo. He confronted me and said that the land owners wanted us to give them half of our harvestings. I told them that we also needed to give the government some of the crops too so that leaves us almost nothing. They refused to take that as a answer so they just pushed me to the ground and taken them. The other harvested crops were bitten badly by little fury creatures. Today’s earning ends now. As I re-calculate each liver of earning. I get a total of only 20 livers that not enough close to enough for the feeding of my family. I guess we are eating stale bread for today.

Diary 2： A lot has happen in these past days, and I was unable to write in my bread book diary. My husband tells me theres a voting crisis in the Estate Generals and something about inviting the first estate over to join the national assembly to discuss about the equality or something.  I asked him how he knew about all this stuff, he answered simply. I am involved in it. I was quite surprised when he said that because I never knew about the other “things” he usually referred to during open business hours. One day on June 17, he came home happily with a big smile on his face. “I giggled and said what the big smile is for?” He told me that on that day, they had declared a tennis court oath. When I asked him what that was about, he suddenly angrily rambled on about how king Lousie XVI locked them out of the meeting room and so they needed a place to go and discuss. I have no idea why, but they chose to go to the tennis courts where normal people go to play tennis. For some odd reason on one average day, as I count up my earnings( which was higher then usual because I have increased the price for bread and got a total of 42 Livres) and stepped out of my store to close up. I heard terrifying screaming sounds coming from a distance where I was unable to see. As I was in fright I didn’t go near to check it out. Since I was alone without my husband, I walked faster and faster. Going past land owner’s house one by one as they each catch on fire with peasants without mercy of slaughtering. Blood everywhere, the color red splattered everywhere on the houses. Peasants everywhere with torches and pitch forks screaming “the deed, the deed!” As I slowly reach my house. I was in a horrific shock stage that I don’t know how to react. After such a day, I didn’t go back to open the shop nor stepped a foot out my house for a couple of days. Until my husband comforted me and said everything is okay. “I am here. Don’t worry; I am never going to leave you alone again. I’m sorry.” After such a day, there was one good thing that happened. My son is bringing his fiancé for me to see. My husband and I are thrilled to meet her, as we waited at the shop nervously waiting for them to come forward. We guessed upon the looks of her. Brown brunette hair? Green eyes? Bright shining teeth? Yes, a great sense of humor. The door bell rang and our heart raced. “Hi mom!” As my son yelled holding on to a young women. I saw her. She was extremely beautiful! Her looks and personality exceeded our expectations. She knew how to clean, wash, laugh, bake and cook. As she slowly approached me with a hand shake and a hug she introduced herself. Her name was Helene. The most surprising thing about this event was that she worked for De Montalembert. How we hated those bitches! It’s that unfaithful, ungrateful, ungenerous, most hideous family I have ever despised most. They were our land owner; they were the ones who beat my husband up. It was they who made our stomachs grumble at night. If it wasn’t for her jog I would have immediately agreed to this whole marriage thing. Of course I couldn’t show such expression towards my son’s fiancé, he loved her. I told her in a nicely mannered way that she must quit her job in order to marry my son. She asked why she had to, I told her that she is going to be a house wife, and besides, your masters are our land owners. My son told me that she intended to stay there to work because of such a high pay roll. He thought a lot of money can do great things. So I confronted him. I stood in front of my son and said. “De Montalembert family beat your father up just to have some free food as we suffer in pain just to get a bit of our tummies filled.” She agreed upon my proposal and left De Montalembert. The wedding is held 2 weeks later, there is just so much to do in such little time. Dairy 3: My Lasy Words I am neither positive nor sure if I am ever going to write in my bread book diary ever again. For goodness sakes I am writing with fear that I have developed over these days. Agony has arisen upon my family. Let me re-wind and explain everything more clearly. It all started 2 weeks ago. I went to my son’s wedding and it was astonishing, blissful, and was even my second happiest day of my life. “Finally, my wish has come true. They are finally married. Nothing can go wrong now, I am sure of it,” As I said to myself. How wrong that is. As the following day past, my husband hasn’t been home for 3 days. I wondered and wondered, “Where could he have gone?” The more I thought the worst it got. I imagined him along with another woman in his life. “What could I have done? What did I do?” Questions started to pop all over my brain as I worked. I considered the fact that I was going to hire someone to murder him but I could be wrong and besides. Our financial problems aren’t in a very good stage right now. Customers and neighbors and I started to chat up on the streets or at my store. I have heard that the government is passing the Law of maximum and the Law of Levy. When I heard what they were I was in shock and furious. I was so angry that I could just rush in and just literally kill them all with my bare hands. But how could I? I was too afraid to do so. Rumors started. Where I went, where I gone. People looked and started and me and started to whisper and talk. I asked my customers what is happening. They looked at me with a weird looking face as if she was going to tell me my parents are dead. I told them to just tell me. They started comfort me slowly. As I calm down, they told me the news. My husband is on the run. It turns out that the committee of the public safety has passed the law of suspects, meaning that they are looking for my husband to either exile or guillotine him. When I heard such horrible news, tears started to drip upon my chin as I try to stop. It would just keep falling…Knowing that they might even suspect me and guillotine me for being a wife of a political husband. I am not afraid. I will never be afraid. I am a woman who does not fear death. I am ready. I prayed silently and hopelessly for my husband’s safety. The next day I heard bad news from my neighbors that my husband has been caught! I walked slowly back home, as I spotted the De Montalembert. I came upon them and started to yell and insult them. “You ignorant self centered pigs!” I yelled. Thinking in my mind that they must of accused my husband as a suspect to the committee of public safety. Their daughter started to yell back but as I yelled louder the mother of the child pulls her back with one hand and looks down at her. The day of the execution of my husband. My son and his wife and I walked over to the guillotine. Where my husband is to be be-headed, a silent crowd it was. As the executioner walked up on the plane ready to cut the rope, I hugged my son tightly with tears. Screaming and hissing. Coughing and sneezing, tears. The executioner held the axe and was slanting towards the rope. P.S- For those who find my dairy buried under 5 feet. All I can say is. The world is a cruel place. Cherish the ones the loved. Cherish your life from now on.