Author: Dackel Princess

When I was young an innocent (?) I believed that I wanted nothing more than a house in New Hampshire, with fruit trees and a vegetable garden. Ah, how lovely it would be to grow ones own fruit and vegetables. Mother Nature would have nothing on me. I would be one with the earth. (Insert a deep, happy sigh and blue grass music.)

Fast forward 20 years. I have my lovely home in New Hampshire, and fruit trees around us that Hubby has cultivated. This year, yes this year would be the year I would finally have my vegetable garden. Over a month ago I started my seedlings. I carefully watered them and talked to them and I felt a true peace inside. This would be good.

Then yesterday, knowing that our time was slipping away, we knew we had to lay out the garden and dig it. Since math has never been my subject, I let Hubby figure out dimensions. He mowed the area down very short and we began.

I must tell you that after the first half an hour, I had decided that having a garden was stupid and I simply should chuck the seeds and go to the grocery store! However, I resolved not to wimp out. Hubby would dig up the sod and I would cut it and shake out the dirt. We worked from 10 AM until after 5 PM, stopping to have a quick lunch in the middle. By 5 I was aching and sun burnt, and tired like you would not believe!

Hubby came into the room and asked innocently, “What’s for dinner?”
“Reservations”, I replied.

I fell asleep at 9:30 last night and slept until Hubby woke me at 7:30 this morning. Still tired, still sore and yes, still sunburnt. After making a Recycling Center run, we were back out in the garden working. We are probably 2/3 of the way through, but don’t ask me for a real percentage here, because like I’ve said, math isn’t my thing. I think on Monday we’ll be able to get the garden completed, but I give you no promises here.

I like to believe that I’m still really, very young. I feel young. I believe I have youthful, hip ideas about life. Most of the time when I look in the mirror I still see that 19 year old wrinkle free girl that I once was.
But lately, I’m finding that there are little things happening to me, that confirm something I’ve been denying. I am in fact, getting old.
It started harmlessly enough. First I had these gray hairs that began to appear. I told myself I was simply “prematurely” gray. A little dye job and no one was the wiser.
Then I noticed a few little tiny lines. Mostly around the eyes. Okay, those are “smile” lines. They just mean I’m a happy person. Not old!
But then I did something the other day that made me stop, sit down and finally admit that, yes, I am indeed getting old.
I was sitting typing on the laptop. I’d taken off my glasses because I cannot see the screen with them on. I typed and typed, and then got up to go into the office to print something. I reached over to the table for my glasses. They weren’t there. Okay, maybe I’d taken them off in the kitchen. I got up and walked over to the kitchen. I looked all around the kitchen, which in fact is quite a feat because I am blind as a bat without my glasses. I went into the bedroom and looked there. Nothing.
I gave up and went into the office and started the print job I needed to do. All the while wondering what I’d done with my glasses. Just then, I felt something like a tick on my hair and reached up and, yes, you guessed it, there were my glasses on top of my head where they had been all along.
Now it’s not easy to admit that I am suddenly a middle aged scatterbrained woman. I don’t feel old. Really, I don’t, but there are these little things that tell me that when you hit menopause you lose more than your ability to procreate!

It’s a little known fact that I maintain my house for the comfort of my dogs. I say little known, because it’s a big world and I expect there are still a few people out there who are unenlightened. Even Hubby, when we were first married, didn’t know the depth to which I spoiled my fur babies.
With cats it’s easy to explain to people why they sleep with you. Cats are sneaky. They wait until you’re asleep and then they slowly crawl, undetected into your bed. You have no choice in the matter. They just help themselves to your bed!
Dogs, however, are a little different.
When we got Shubi as a baby, I immediately brought her into bed with me.
“No”, Hubby said, “She sleeps on the floor in the basket.
At the time we were at our friends in Germany, so Shubi still had her brother to sleep with, so she was fine in the basket, but when we got her home to the USA Hubby tried to place her on the floor to sleep. He turned out the lights. A little puppy cry started. She was scared, she was tired, but so was Hubby.
“Okay” he said, “Just for tonight”.
Shubi remained in our bed for the rest of her life.
When Fritz arrived from Oregon, he was tired, I was tired and so was Hubby.
“We’ll just bring him into the bed with us”, I said.
So I got the little puppy and brought him into bed with Hubby, Shubi and me. I turned out the light. Fritz jumped around and the next thing I knew, he wee-wee’d in the bed! I leapt up, grabbing the sheets and blankets, and all but rolled Hubby and Shubi onto the floor in my attempt to keep the wee-wee from getting into the mattress!
As I changed the sheets, the sweet little white puppy got put into a crate and closed in the living room for the night.
He has never been invited back into our bed, although I do allow him to sleep on the floor in our room.
Enter Greta.
Once again Hubby felt it was better not to bring the puppy into the bed. After all, look what happened with Fritz! I would not be dissuaded, and Greta came to bed with us. The two dachshunds curled up together and fell asleep. Greta, remains a permanent bed fixture to this day.
The other day, Hubby observed Fritz on the sofa asleep. He went over to sit and pat him and before he knew what was happening, he had a lap full of dogs. I grabbed the camera and snapped this picture.