Running out of ink

April 05 1203

monk in the monastery
Normally I love my life as a Monk, I love the tranquility of Valle Crucis. Due to the rules dictated by the Cistercians, our Abbey is situated far away from anywhere. It feels safe. We are self sufficient and grow our own food within our luscious gardens. We are taught to read and write at a young age by the older scholars. We are so lucky to have these skills as very few people these days are even able to write their own name!

I have a particular talent for creating manuscripts. I love the attention to detail and all the colours as they merge and flow into patterns on the page. Sometime one page is so detailed it can take months of painstaking work to complete.

Today I am not happy and I feel annoyed at our remoteness as I have run out of gold leaf which I require to finish my current page. I visit the Abbot and tell him of my requirements. He is an understanding man but tells me it will be a few months until he can get more supplies of gold leaf.

A visiting tradesman passes only once or twice a year. I must remember to check the order next time as Father Geraint always underestimates the amount we need.