Category: Memories

Looking back, May 2005 was when I started writing Dackel Princess. Sometimes I like to go back and read my thoughts. It’s been a lot of fun. We all have my cousin, Janet to blame, as she got me into writing, 15 years ago! And even though I have not been as diligent in the last year, I am going to try to be better about keeping my blog up and running. So, here is what I wrote that first day.

As this is the opening day of The Dackel Princess, I would like to welcome everyone to my site! As I write, spring is upon us here in the mountains of New Hampshire. With temperatures in the high 70’s, my apple trees are starting to blossom and the trees on the hill are starting to leaf out. It is so beautiful!

All three dogs have been running around in the yard this morning. Currently, the two dachsies are taking their second nap of the day, (more like one long, long nap) and Fritz is outside asleep on the patio. His favorite spot to be. Me? I’m sitting in front of my computer trying to figure out a new bit of software. So here’s to the first entry! With many more to come!!!

This is Shubi!

Baby Greta!

Fritz

Shubi was my very first wire-haired dachshund. She was the love of my life, and I was so grateful for each day we shared. She was with me for ten years before going to Rainbow Bridge. Far too short a time here on earth.

Yes, that is Greta as a baby. Greta grew to “marry” her “husband” Bernie and give us 10 beautiful pups. Two of which are my Arnie and Anneliese. But there she is, just two months old. I still miss that girl.

And Fritz. The most wonderful white shepherd that we have ever had. Gentle, kind, and fiercely loyal, who was with us twelve years and left so very quickly to go to Rainbow Bridge. Our Lili is his niece. She looks a lot like her uncle, but there is a somewhat wild side to Lili that Fritz did not have. Both were/are as gentle as you could hope to find in a German Shepherd.

Anyway, the part in Blue was the original entry. This is the rest of the story. Imagine, 15 years writing their stories and my own? It’s been fun!

I went out today and walked around the cement pad we had poured for the camper. We’d done it the first year we were here.

We put our handprints in the wet cement and our initials.

We had two dogs then. Our old White German Shepherd, Max.

These are his prints.

And the love of our lives, and many others, Shubi.

These are Shubi’s little paw prints.

We loved having their footprints in the cement. It somehow blessed this land that we had decided to call home.

Shubi and Max.

Today, for the first time in many years, I saw their prints, and our hands and remembered all those years ago. I smiled, I cried a little and then was thankful for all that Hubby and I have now, and the three dogs we are blessed to share our life with, but also thankful for the dogs we have known in the past.

Me with my Shubi in the camper.

“And oh how the years go by
And oh how the love brings tears to my eyes
All through the changes the soul never dies
We fight, we laugh, we cry
As the years go by”

Lyrics by: JENNINGS/CLIMIE

I was thinking about my family recently. Growing up, I recall that my mother’s family got together a lot. When I was very young, we all met up at my Grandmother’s House in Brighton, Massachusetts. She had a three-story home, that at one time or another had housed Grandma and Papa Fred; her parents; her sister, Tilly, and Tilly’s son, George; Papa Fred’s sister, Hedwig and her husband Abert; my Mom and Dad; and my Uncle Bob and his wife Cynthia and their two children Carl and Erica.

Now, these people all passed through the house at one time or another, never all at once, but somehow, Murdock Street was the home base for many years.

Family always gathered at Grandma’s house to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays. It was always so much fun. Good food, a lot of laughs, and a lot of hugs. My memories of those long-ago days are still very strong. I recall each family member, be they my Mom’s brother and his family, or all of Papa Fred’s family, as he had many brothers and sisters.

Papa had a heart attack when I was about 10 years old and Grandma and Papa moved closer to us in Falmouth, on Cape Cod. They moved three streets away from us, and I remember running through the woods to their house. The door was always open and they were always happy to see me.

Grandma Honey & Papa Fred

The family parties continued, although I admit, they’d gotten smaller because slowly, the family was dying off. Papa was the youngest in his family and I recall his brothers and sisters passing early on. All except the eldest in the family, Hedwig, and she lived to be very, very, old.

In any case, after a few years, Grandma and Papa needed more help and so they bought a house with my Mom and Dad. It was a beautiful big home. Which meant, the family parties continued.

It was great because All the cousins were getting married and having children, and suddenly the parties were filled with babies, toddlers, and children! There was a small lake down the road and in the summer, during the cookouts, this meant swimming times too!

When parties were planned, everyone came. They came to see Grandma. She really loved family and would plan everything and call everyone. Mom would do most of the cooking, with Uncle Betty by her side, and Uncle George and my Dad were great at flipping burgers and hotdogs.

I can still taste my Mom’s potato salad! And why is it that the watermelon tasted so much better when we were all sitting on the fence spitting seeds?

I miss those days. I miss all those people. I miss the family gatherings when we all were together. They do not happen anymore. My sister Melodie and one cousin, Janet, and I get together twice a year. But gone are the days of those big family gatherings.

Me at my Beach. Surf Drive Beach.

Right now I am trying to establish a time each summer when I share beach time with my grandchildren. I want them to have the Cape Cod experience. I want them to know salty air, sunsets into the ocean, and cookouts that last forever. I want them to spit watermelon seeds while they’re sitting on a fence and Dairy Queen runs on a hot summer night!

So many wonderful memories of my own childhood.

I was thinking back to the days of my youth. I grew up in Falmouth, Massachusetts, before the rapid growth and over-building. Back when it was a small town and a great place to live and grow up.
The first house I lived in was on Clipper Lane. It was a nice house and I had my own room.

What my childhood home looks like today.

But more often than not I would find myself sleeping in my sister’s bed in the morning. Nightmares and sleepwalking.
I had a brother and a sister. My brother and I weren’t very close. My sister and I were and still are.

My brother was much older then I and I think he just sort of resented this cute little kid running around the house trying to be a part of everything.
My room was over the kitchen and the back door. I could see everyone come in or go out and I could also listen to the voices of my parents talking at the table there. Sometimes good talk, sometimes bad. But I could always know what was happening.
The great thing about my room was the storm windows. They were the old fashioned kind that was fit on for the winter and then taken off and a screen would be put on for the summer.

In the winter I could put up the window and sit with my feet on the radiator and keep them warm while I played with my Barbie dolls. The window sill area was their “loft apartment” with tissue boxes for beds or sofas and thimbles for stools or lamps.

Janet and me!

My cousin Janet and my sister played with me too. We would play for hours and hours. Back in the ’60s when Janet and I played, my dolls would be Paul and Linda McCartney and hers would be Mick and Bianca Jagger. For hours and hours, we escaped into this wonderful world.
We made clothes for the dolls too. Out of scrap material from my mother’s sewing supplies. I remember seeing my Barbie’s looking like a real glamour Queen, even though I am sure the outfits were terribly designed and badly sewn.

But to Janet and me it didn’t matter.

February 4th would have been my Grandma Honey’s 122nd birthday. It’s difficult to imagine her at that age. She passed from this world into the next 36 years ago. She was a very important woman in my life and taught me so much. Even now, I miss her like crazy!

Here she is, Mary Frances Daniell the day she married my Papa, Frederick Carl Prussman.

Here is a picture of Mel and me with our much loved, Grandma Honey, at Goodwill Park.

Grandma Honey and Papa Fred. Theirs was truly an epic love story! They met when they were less than ten years old. Grandma was friends with Papa’s sister, Katchen, and spent a lot of time at the house teaching Katchen to speak English. The family had recently arrived from Mülheim an der Ruhr, Germany, and aside from the eldest sister, Hedwig, who worked as a Nanny, no one spoke a lot of English.

Anyway, Papa always said he fell in love with her then, and as a teenager, he would chase off any beau that tried to court her. My great grandfather eventually allowed them to become engaged but insisted that Mary finish college before they married.

They were married until Mary eventually passed from this life to the next. He joined her 8 months later.

Today would have been my dearest friend, Candy’s birthday. Last year I sent her a 3 lb wheel of Vermont Cheddar Cheese and New Hampshire Maple Syrup. The year before I sent her a Red Velvet Cake, her favorite.

I sang her happy birthday and all was well. Neither one of us knew that last year would be her very last birthday on this earth.

Just over a month later, Candy was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. I will never forget the night she called me. She had just gone to a walk-in clinic for her cough. They x-rayed her lungs and found the masses.

She called me sitting in her car in the parking lot. She knew. I kept trying to explain away what the doctors had found, but Candy being a nurse knew.

How lucky I was to have been her friend all of these years. We could go for a while not talking on the phone and then one of us would call the other and it was like we just talked yesterday. It was always easy to talk to Candy. She understood me in so many ways, that no one else did.

When Candy and her husband visited us back in 2013, they both fell in love with our Greta. So much so that a few months later they got their very own wire-haired dachshund. Aurora went everywhere with Candy and she was the real joy in her life.

Candy was an identical twin. I wrote to her sister Mary and spoke to her last week. Needless to say, she is feeling an unimaginable loss. I knew this would be very hard for her. Firsts are the worst.

I was not only blessed to have been Candy’s friend all these years but during her last days on this earth, I was able to give back to my friend all that she had given me, by caring for her.

Oh, how I miss this wonderful woman. But as I told her the last time I saw her, “Love never dies, Candy. I will see you next in God’s Garden”.

Happy Heavenly Birthday!