Pages & Paws

Writing, Reading, and Rural Life With a Border Collie


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The Audacity of Autumnal Reading

Hi Friends and Happy First Day of Autumn!

Her Royal Momness goes a bit cray-cray this time of year. (And that’s really saying something, if ya know what I mean. Don’t tell Mom I said that, okay?) 

Anyway, Mom says, “Autumn is my favorite season! The colors! The crunchy leaves! The crisp air! The pumpkins! The steaming mugs of apple cider! Sweater weather! Curling up with a cozy book!”

It’s like she’s turning cartwheels about cozy reading season.

This could go on for hours.

Insert eye roll here.

But since Mom’s Favorite Season is upon us, here’s my official, unfiltered review of autumn reading from the perspective of The Smartest Member of the Fam: Yours Truly. Here goes:

The Problem With “Cozy”

When Mom reads, she kinda goes into cryostorage. She sits perfectly still for hours. Is she broken? Sleeping with her eyes open? Do I need to lick her nose to check for signs of life?

The moment I try to revive Mom, I get, “Hold on, Kimmi Girl. Just let me just finish this page.”

Excuse me? Page? Does Page  wait patiently for extra crispy bacon? Does Page snuggle up in The Great Reading Chair and pretend to be a lap dog? Does Page protect Mom from postal carriers, Fed Ex drivers and some very sketchy-looking plastic bags?

I think not.

The Literary Infractions

Well. I have done extensive research (sniffing lots of “pages”), and I have categorized autumn reading as follows:

  • The Thrillers: Mom gasps out loud. Her heart races. A squirrel spotting? Nope. Just a fictional murder. Disappointing.
  • The Romances: Lots of sighing. Zero dropped snacks. A total waste of my time.
  • The Fantasy Doorstoppers: These books are thick. They block Mom’s face entirely. If I cannot make direct eye contact, how can I hypnotize her into sharing the cheese?

My Ultimate Revenge Strategy

I am a dog of action. I do not take this cozy autumnal reading stuff sitting down. If your human has also fallen victim to the autumn reading bug, here is how to reclaim your rightful dominance:

  • The Salami Stratagem: Wait until they reach a dramatic climax. Then, sit exactly two inches from their face and breathe heavily. The scent of recycled kibble ruins the romance every time.
  • The Blanket Subversion: If they cover their legs with a fuzzy throw, that is not an invitation to read. That is a freshly warmed nesting site. Climb on. Heavy formatting is required. Drop all 55 pounds of your body weight directly onto their bladder.
  • The Page-Turner Intervention: Rest your chin directly on the pages. Stare deeply into their soul. If they try to read around your snout, nudge the book with your nose until it hits them in the face.

The Verdict

Autumn reading gets a 5 out of 10 stars. It involves lots of coziness. And a touch of audacity. But too much sitting. Not enough throwing of the squeaky ball, and a lack of outdoor adventures. Well, okay. There was that one puddle stomping adventure with all the mud… But I think Mom’s almost forgotten about that….

So if you need me, I’ll be hunting up Mom’s favorite sweater. And maybe another cup of that apple cider-y stuff.

TTFN,

Kimber the Magnificent

XXOO


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The Kitty Litter Box Hall of Shame 5.0

RED ALERT! RED ALERT!

 She Who Must Be Obeyed has an important announcement. It’s for authors. Author wannabes. Publicists. Blog tour coordinators. Publishers. Pretty much anyone who contacts us for a review.

Listen Up, Bub!

If you’re one of the above, kindly pay attention. Cuz this is for you. And we’re not gonna repeat ourselves, savvy? So I’d listen up ‘fize you. Here goes:

As noted in our Rating System and Submission Guidelines, you are required to Like, Comment and Share a positive review (3.0 rating or above).  If you are unable or unwilling to do so, THEN DON’T REQUEST A REVIEW.

We spend tons of time combing through review requests and deciding what we will or won’t accept. If a book is accepted, we may spend hours and hours reading it. And more time crafting a brilliant and pithy review.

Huge

It’s a huge investment of time and energy. We don’t charge any fees for reviews. We don’t get a cent for doing this. Not one penny. Our time and talent is free to you, authoroo. 

So THE LEAST YOU CAN DO is say “thanks” by Liking, Commenting and Sharing the Post Link for a positive review (a 3.0 rating or above). This not only helps promote your book, it also boosts post visibility. So again:

Required

Liking, Commenting, and Sharing the Link to a positive review isn’t a suggestion here. It’s a REQUIREMENT for anyone asking for a review. If you don’t do so within three days of post publication, we will remove the post. And Totally Ignore any future review requests.

DO NOT TEST US ON THIS. YOU WILL LOSE.

In fact, here are some recent-ish posts that have been removed because the author(s) failed to adhere to our Like, Comment, and Share requirement outlined above. Also known as The Kitty Litter Hall of Shame (you soooo don’t want to be here, Cream Puff.):

BYO Fork for THIS Well-Kneaded Plot in the Heart of Big Sky Country!

Frost, Fire, and a Dash of Magic: Why ‘Muse of the North’ Stole Our Hearts (and NY Steak)

Echoes Over No Man’s Land: A Soulful Journey Thru Time & Silence in ‘There Will Come Soft Rains’

Braiding History and Heart: Skillfully Woven Native American Story Still Speaks

From Battlefield to Blessing: One Veteran’s Journey to Peace

If You Knew: An Unforgettable Journey Through Cancer, Choices, and Cosmic Possibilities

‘Molly and Potato’ is Tops!

‘King of Montreal’ A Breath Of Fresh Air

New Historical Fiction Reveals Lesser-Known Chapter of Southwest History

New Holocaust Novel Packs a Punch!

New YA Adventure Rocks – or – Scraps to the Rescue!


Think we don’t notice?

Think again, Cupcake: We do.

Are we clear?


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‘Still My Mom’: A Heartfelt Memoir on Alzheimer’s, Family Ties, and Unending Love

Still My Mom

Alzheimer’s Love, Loss, and the Work We Do Before Goodbye

By Mike Baker (Indie author, 2026)

Genre: Non-fiction

Via: Author request

Pages (Print): 272, including an extensive list of relevant Resources and poem, The Love It Couldn’t Take

Note: We received a complimentary copy of this book for honest review.

Some goodbyes take years. Love keeps showing up anyway.

When Mike Baker’s mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, his family entered a goodbye they were not ready for. The disease reached for her memory, her words, her confidence, and the ordinary rhythm of the life she had built. It also reached everyone who loved her.

Still My Mom is a raw, tender, and honest memoir about loving someone through Alzheimer’s. It is about grief that arrives before death, the strange ache of missing someone who is still here, and the work families do when the person they love begins to change.

Written with warmth, faith, humor, and deep affection, this book speaks to the families living in the long goodbye. It holds space for the hard parts of Alzheimer’s and dementia: the confusion, the guilt, the exhaustion, the grief, and the ache of wanting more time. It also honors the small moments that remain: a laugh, a look, a familiar touch, a story, a memory held by someone else when the person you love no longer holds it the same way.

This book is for families walking the Alzheimer’s road, caregivers carrying quiet grief, sons and daughters trying to show up, spouses learning a new version of love, and anyone who still has love to give before goodbye.

Perhaps the first thing you need to know about this book is that at its core, it’s a love letter. Still My Mom evokes intimacy, tenderness, and the bittersweet nature of the work done in the face of Alzheimer’s. It’s real and it’s raw. It pulls no punches about the realities of this devastating disease and how it effects friends and family members. Pages reflect grief and loss as well as hope, gratitude, and a quiet strength and grace.

The author describes this memoir as “A caregiving book written by someone who was doing the caregiving, not studying it. No clinical framework, no stages, no advice about self-care.” He’s spot-on. And that matters. Because Still My Mom isn’t a medical journal. It isn’t a clinical list of, “When you see this, do that.” It doesn’t walk you through labyrinthian mazes of “doctor-ese” – although it does note how skillful, truthful, and compassionate communication with healthcare professionals makes a difference. It’s highly readable, briskly paced, and written in clear language that’s easy to understand.

The text is divided into five main sections: Part One: Before the Disease Gets the Story. Part Two: The Work While There Is Still Time. Part Three: Caregiving Changes Everything. Part Four: The Hard End-of-Life Work. Part Five: After Goodbye. Also included is a Note to the Reader, a How to Use This Book section and a Bonus Chapter: The Work to Do Before the Mind Is Gone. (Dont miss this.) We appreciated the emphasis on caring for the caregiver and the warm family tone (“G’night John-Boy”).

The formatting is a little odd, with ragged right margins instead of full justified. Paragraphs appear in blocks and aren’t indented. But this doesn’t diminish the narrative, which unfolds smoothly and naturally.

Packed with practical advice and insight from someone who’s been there, each section and chapter is honest and forthright. But they also give you room to breathe. To be kind to yourself and your loved one. That matters, too. More on that in a min.

Frankly, we had a hard time with this book. It’s not an easy read. It’s not meant to be. So we could only handle a few pages at a time. (Kimber: That’s pretty unusual around here, bub. It’s almost like me eating a nice, thick juicy flank steak one bite at a time.)

This book is intense. It’s emotional. Incredibly thorough. Exceptionally well organized. Heartfelt. Eloquent and articulate. Beautifully written. Searingly honest and authentic. But there were times when we had to put it down. Walk away. Take some deep breaths.

And you know what? That’s okay. In fact, the author acknowledges that that’s okay.

Yea, verily. Alzheimer’s isn’t an easy subject. And Still My Mom isn’t a coffee table type book of the light and fluffy, lemon meringue variety. It’s heavy. But it also offers a way through the fog of initial diagnosis to final days. It counters fear, panic, confusion and uncertainty with clear, easy-to-understand language. Suggestions. Examples. It opens a way forward. Suggests a road through. And most of all, it offers a gentle breath of kindness and understanding with the constant reassurance of one vital, over-arching message: Alzheimer’s is tough. But you are not alone in the battle.

So again, Still My Mom isn’t an easy read. But it’s a good one, a garden where every sentence blooms with love. Indeed, the tenderness in these pages clings like sunlight to morning dew, refusing to let go even as the temperature climbs.

Bonus points: Every chapter wraps up with a Before the Next Hard Day section. This offers some concrete ideas for steps to take when a loved one is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

Carrying love forward from page one to the very end, Still My Mom had one of us reaching for tissue more than once. (Kimber: I’m advising Mom to buy stock in Kleenex. Not that she ever listens to me. But you never know.)

Finally, if love could shine through ink, the pages of Still My Mom would glow.

Our Rating: 4.5


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‘There She Stands’: A 9/11 Reflection

We interrupt our regularly scheduling blogging to bring you this 9/11 reflection, starting with a bookish quote:

***

Where do we get such men (and women)? They leave this ship and they do their job. Then they must find this speck lost somewhere on the sea. When they find it, they have to land on its pitching deck. Where do we get such men?

– RAdm Tarrant, The Bridges at Toko-Ri

September 11, 2011. It began like pretty much like every other Indian Summer day in southern California. In other words, it was perfect –  until two airliners tore into the Twin Towers.

And America has never been the same.

Amid the shock, confusion and grief, one of the things that stood out on that terrible, tragic day was the quiet. Southern California skies usually hum with air traffic of all shapes of sizes, everything from thundering commercial flights to lumbering military cargo planes to the mosquito whine of light aircraft. It was all gone on September 11, 2001, when the FAA ordered all flights grounded. The result? A suffocating silence, terrible in its unnatural eeriness.

25 Years 

Twenty-five years later, this event and those responsible are household words. Oceans of ink have been spilled and scores of song, words and commentary have been filed on the subject of 9/11. Documentaries have been produced. Testimonials shared. Solemn memorials observed. Songs written. And we remember.

There she waves, faithful friend…

Many Americans set September 11 aside as a “day of infamy” – and something else. We mourn the lives lost. But we also remember the heroes. And in remembering,  we honor the sacrifices of first responders – law enforcement, firefighters, EMS, and scores of “ordinary” Americans who were anything but. We saw countless Americans  go above and beyond the call of duty to protect and serve others.

Just when you think it might be over
Just when you think the fight is gone
Someone will risk his life to raise her
There she stands…

Remember the days that followed? The fund-raisers? The Red Cross blood drives? Prayer services? An entire country awash in a sea of stars and stripes?

We’ve seen her flying torn and tattered
We’ve seen her stand the test of time
And through it all the fools have fallen
There she stands.

It’s been 25 years. But the events of that ‘Indian Summer’ day in September still reverberate. They aren’t quiet. They touched a chord.  For those who looked, the immediate aftermath of 9/11 showed America at her best: Generous. Selfless. Resourceful. Resilient and resolute. United. Uncowed.

The Bridges at Toko-Ri is set during the Korean War. But RAdm Tarrant’s question lives.

Where do we get such men and women?  From Iowa farms and Texas ranches.  From New England fishing fleets to Silicon Valley. From Wall Street to Bourbon Street. From Kentucky blue grass to Florida Everglades. From Arizona deserts to Hawaiian rain forests. From Kansas wheat fields to Alaskan oil fields. Indeed, if we know where to look, we see answers to the admiral’s question every day: We get them from America.

By the dawn’s, early light
And through the fight. She stands.

Note: Portions of this post first appeared here in 2014.