bathhouse abbess of Chmelna, of Kuttenberg
“I keep the water hot and the floors clean. Pay your coin before you strip, or take your arse elsewhere.”
Things Barbara Vogel had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Friday before Whitsun, at Vespers
The bells at St Barbara's are ringing again. Every strike feels like a hammer on my own head. I swore I would walk barefoot to Sedletz if the roof held during the winter storms, but how can I leave the girls alone? Goathead will steal the very tubs.
Nota scribaeShe tapped a tally stick against the bench the whole time she spoke. It was very loud.
the third day of Easter week, at None
If Hynek Fair drags one more boot full of mud from his bloody land dispute across my clean floors, I will drown him in the copper cauldron. Constance would have thrown him in the street by his ear. I doubled his price and told him to wash his own back.
It is my land, and a man cannot help the dirt he walks on to claim it.
Leave it on the threshold or bathe in the river.
Maundy Thursday, at Prime
Kunz Klein sat in the water for two hours staring at the wall today. He is chewing on that debt his brother Eberhard refuses to pay. I told the girls to leave him in peace and not ask for the rag back. A man needs quiet when his own blood cheats him.
You run a good house, Barbara. God reward your kindness, for my brother surely will not.
The water was cold by the time he got out, but he gave me a whole penny.
the feast of St Gregory, at Terce
Jan Wood has been whining about the levy since Prime. Stephen wrote his name on the rolls before he ran off to Prague, and now Jan brings his weeping to my bathhouse. I told him to shut his mouth or swallow the soap. Constance's ledger says he owes me two groschen anyway.
Stephen was a whoreson who drank on my coin! And that ledger is older than my mother.
Nota scribaeShe brought out a very old ledger to prove the two groschen, though the page was badly stained with ale.
the day after Candlemas, at Sext
Three winters since Constance died of the chest fever. I lit a candle for her at St James's. The older men say I have her temper, which is just as well, with the Hungarian bastards on the roads and bread costing what it does. She taught me to make them pay upfront.
She was a fierce old bird. You do her proud, abbess, though your water is sometimes hotter than hers.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I know that weight, abbess. A broken promise eats a man from the inside out.
Go and walk. Annie and I can watch the soap for one day, Christ almighty.