From Pyrmont With Love
Jul. 16th, 2021 11:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mildred_of_midgard posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rheinsbergAuthor: selenak
Original discussion: https://cahn.dreamwidth.org/190222.html?thread=3665166#cmt3665166
selenak: 1745/1746! Heinrich certainly had a tumultous year, between fighting in the war, getting smallpox, falling in love, getting taunted by Big Brother for it, falling out of love (the first time) with Marwitz at some point later, and then holidays with Fritz….
Dear Diary: Day 1 of the Trip From Hell, aka holidays with Fritz. When I first was told about this, I said: "But I thought I might have the chance to visit Rheinsberg this year". Says he: "You're going to have the chance to visit it for the rest of your life, you ungrateful brat, unlike me. This year, you're coming to the Spa with me, and if you don't start packing at once, I'm cutting down your budget again." I'm definitely going to write that pamphlet about his Silesian mistakes. Maybe it'll sell enough so I can finally pay some of my expenses on my own.
Dear Diary: Wouldn't you know it, Himself sprang the money for a separate chaise for the dogs, but I have to sit in the same carriage with him. I offered to take the ride with his musicians instead, not least because I was hoping to get an autograph from Salimbeni. You should have seen the royal glare. So it's hours on the (terrible) road with Fritz. I used all the perfume I could get my hands on. (Look, I've been his AD in the last war, I know how to prepare!) He snuffed even more tobacco than usual and asked whether I was already over M. since I insisted on smelling like a rentboy on the prowl. I said evidently he knew more about rentboys than I did, given I never had the money to pay for one nor needed to, but that I wasn't surprised at his more extended knowledge in this regard.
Day 2: Arrival in Pyrmont. The nightmare continues. Fritz insisted on the local spa doctors examining me first. "Just in case his face doesn't give it away, he's had the smallpox last year," he said. "And I wouldn't be surprised if he's had the other pox as well, given the company he's kept." I kept myself from fratricide by starting to work on my my opus magnum, tentatively titled "The Anti-Fritz". Must remember to steal Voltaire's address from Fritz and ask V. how much Dutch printers demand or pay.
Later that day. At last, a perk! One of the daily rituals involves silent walkings, with intermittent water drinking. For ALL guests. That means Fritz actually has to shut up for at least an hour. And wonder of wonders, he sticks to the treatment.
Day 3: Clearly, the medical strategy pursued here is curing the patients by lots of sleep, produced by general boredom. The local musicians are terrible. And Himself said his own musicians were off limits to anyone but himself. Adds he: "If you're bored, you can always walk my dogs."
Then there are the other guests. All of whom are either swarming Fritz and telling him how wonderful he is, or talking to me in the hope I'll introduce them to him, with "talking" being a euphemism for "raving on how wonderful Fritz is". I tried to entertain myself by figuring out who the spies are, but that's almost too easy.
Day 4: Am making progress with the "Anti-Fritz", but not yet with the Voltaire address stealing, as that would involve working my way through Fritz' swarm of admirers or begging for a private audience. (NEVER.) Letter from Wilhelm who mentions the Firstborn definitely made up, which he knows because Pöllnitz thinks Wilhelmine was working on a trashy tell all about our family and now has stopped (the proof of which is that she doesn't ask Pöllnitz for anecdotes anymore). I'd say it only proves she knows all of Pöllnitz stories, and anyway, why should Wilhemine write a trashy tell all? That's MY mission in life!
Day 5: Have decided my trashy tell all can only be better than Wilhelmine's potential trashy tell all if I have Fritz stories to tell, which unfortunatetely involves interacting with Fritz. So, merely in the interest of my literary future, I contrived to have breakfeast with the Almighty. (He gets up early enough for most of the admirers to still be asleep, so the amount of Fritz-fawning I have to listen to is at its lowest then.) Says he: "Doesn't look as if the waters agree with you, or is there another explanation for that shade of green you're exhibiting?" (This is Fritz speak for "Admit it, you're jealous as hell and desperately want to be me." ) "It's the local cuisine," I returned. "They're putting on way too much honey and syrup on every offering. I bet you're starved for some saltiness yourself."
selenakOriginal discussion: https://cahn.dreamwidth.org/190222.html?thread=3665166#cmt3665166
selenak: 1745/1746! Heinrich certainly had a tumultous year, between fighting in the war, getting smallpox, falling in love, getting taunted by Big Brother for it, falling out of love (the first time) with Marwitz at some point later, and then holidays with Fritz….Dear Diary: Day 1 of the Trip From Hell, aka holidays with Fritz. When I first was told about this, I said: "But I thought I might have the chance to visit Rheinsberg this year". Says he: "You're going to have the chance to visit it for the rest of your life, you ungrateful brat, unlike me. This year, you're coming to the Spa with me, and if you don't start packing at once, I'm cutting down your budget again." I'm definitely going to write that pamphlet about his Silesian mistakes. Maybe it'll sell enough so I can finally pay some of my expenses on my own.
Dear Diary: Wouldn't you know it, Himself sprang the money for a separate chaise for the dogs, but I have to sit in the same carriage with him. I offered to take the ride with his musicians instead, not least because I was hoping to get an autograph from Salimbeni. You should have seen the royal glare. So it's hours on the (terrible) road with Fritz. I used all the perfume I could get my hands on. (Look, I've been his AD in the last war, I know how to prepare!) He snuffed even more tobacco than usual and asked whether I was already over M. since I insisted on smelling like a rentboy on the prowl. I said evidently he knew more about rentboys than I did, given I never had the money to pay for one nor needed to, but that I wasn't surprised at his more extended knowledge in this regard.
Day 2: Arrival in Pyrmont. The nightmare continues. Fritz insisted on the local spa doctors examining me first. "Just in case his face doesn't give it away, he's had the smallpox last year," he said. "And I wouldn't be surprised if he's had the other pox as well, given the company he's kept." I kept myself from fratricide by starting to work on my my opus magnum, tentatively titled "The Anti-Fritz". Must remember to steal Voltaire's address from Fritz and ask V. how much Dutch printers demand or pay.
Later that day. At last, a perk! One of the daily rituals involves silent walkings, with intermittent water drinking. For ALL guests. That means Fritz actually has to shut up for at least an hour. And wonder of wonders, he sticks to the treatment.
Day 3: Clearly, the medical strategy pursued here is curing the patients by lots of sleep, produced by general boredom. The local musicians are terrible. And Himself said his own musicians were off limits to anyone but himself. Adds he: "If you're bored, you can always walk my dogs."
Then there are the other guests. All of whom are either swarming Fritz and telling him how wonderful he is, or talking to me in the hope I'll introduce them to him, with "talking" being a euphemism for "raving on how wonderful Fritz is". I tried to entertain myself by figuring out who the spies are, but that's almost too easy.
Day 4: Am making progress with the "Anti-Fritz", but not yet with the Voltaire address stealing, as that would involve working my way through Fritz' swarm of admirers or begging for a private audience. (NEVER.) Letter from Wilhelm who mentions the Firstborn definitely made up, which he knows because Pöllnitz thinks Wilhelmine was working on a trashy tell all about our family and now has stopped (the proof of which is that she doesn't ask Pöllnitz for anecdotes anymore). I'd say it only proves she knows all of Pöllnitz stories, and anyway, why should Wilhemine write a trashy tell all? That's MY mission in life!
Day 5: Have decided my trashy tell all can only be better than Wilhelmine's potential trashy tell all if I have Fritz stories to tell, which unfortunatetely involves interacting with Fritz. So, merely in the interest of my literary future, I contrived to have breakfeast with the Almighty. (He gets up early enough for most of the admirers to still be asleep, so the amount of Fritz-fawning I have to listen to is at its lowest then.) Says he: "Doesn't look as if the waters agree with you, or is there another explanation for that shade of green you're exhibiting?" (This is Fritz speak for "Admit it, you're jealous as hell and desperately want to be me." ) "It's the local cuisine," I returned. "They're putting on way too much honey and syrup on every offering. I bet you're starved for some saltiness yourself."
