“… all snug in her bed…”
Kimber: Mom just called me in from the yard. ‘Bout time. That big yellow ball in the sky is starting to spread across the horizon like a giant egg yolk. Temperatures are dropping. The Powder Puff just sauntered past. Why that canine lets her owner deck her out in that green and red jacket + reindeer antlers, I’ll never know.
Anyway, when Mom opened the porch door, I caught a whiff of Something Warm and Wonderful inside. She says, “Kimber, dinner! Come!”
Mom and I have cooked up something short and sweet for you today. Well, actually we cooked this up last year. But who’s counting? Besides. Ya see, one of us is being a lazy slug today (Hi, Mom). Come to think of it, I, Kimber, am a bit tuckered, too.
Mom says solitude can be hard to come by in our rush-rush, hurry up, instant everything society. Grabbing a few quiet moments to refresh and recharge can be a challenge any time. But it’s particularly tough during the holidays, huh?
So if holiday merry-making has you ready to tear your hair out or your festive feathers are a bit ruffled, this is for you.
Slow down. Grab a hot cuppa. Plop in a peppermint stick. Sit down. Put your feet up. Give Manheim Steamroller’s Stille Nacht (Silent Night) a listen. Five quiet minutes. You’ll be glad you did.
Know someone who could use a yuletide boost? Don’t forget to share!
Snowy field image credit: Public domain
Every year on this day we pause to remember and pay tribute to one of the best friends we ever had.
She was the most beautiful Yellow Lab ya ever saw.
We post the following reflection every year in Eve’s honor.
We give out a super duper, totally pawsitively and magnificently splendiderous author award every once in awhile. Comes with extra pawsome sauce. It’s called The Kimber Award. Because, hey. It’s me.
We’ll get to that in just a min. So kindly keep your hair on, Toots. First an update on The Ole Curmudgeon.
Mom was in the hospital place recently. She hates hospitals. So do I. They won’t allow me inside. Silly hospitals.
Kimber: You know I’m a happy camper, right? I mean, hey. My middle name is “merry and bright”! So I don’t quite get all this barking about “holiday stress.” Mom says it’s a thing. So it must be a thing.
Well. You also know I’m a helper. I help going out on walks and hikes. Cleaning up kitchen spills. Guarding the house. Especially from menacing deer. Lurking Fed Ex drivers. Sketchy-looking plastic bags.
Being a world class helper and all, I figure I better help with this holiday stress thing. So here are my top ten tips for reducing holiday stress. Ready? Okay. Here goes:
Yo! Wazzup?
Kimber: The ‘Ole Curmudgeon (TOC) can’t come to the blog right now. She’s hunting up the nearest plate and fork. So I’m gonna take over for a min, okay?
Now. You know that the OC is like, super-duper opinionated. On Pretty. Much. Everything. Especially books. We don’t apologize for that one bit. In fact, it’s one of Mom’s best features. (I can’t remember the other two at the moment. Can I get back to you on that that?)
Anyway, Mom’s been whaling away on the last few Kristin Hannah novels she read. Cuz they were like, lousy. Lookin’ at you, The Women. Distant Shores. Summer Island. The Four Winds. Barf-o-rama x4.
So Mom and I are diving into that “Christmas reading” thing. With both feet. And four paws. I’m not quite sure what ‘Christmas reading’ means. But if Mom likes it, then so do I!
We have some perennial favorites. Like Richard Paul Evans’ The Christmas Box. Earl Hamner Jr.’s The Homecoming. The Polar Express. That green dude, Whoville, and his dog Max. Luke 2.
We also grab some new titles every year. That’s how we found Dear Santa. By Nancy Naigle. I’ll let The ‘Ole Curmudgeon fill ya in:
Note: We received a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
“Go to the oldest part (of the hospital archives). It is there where time stands still, but history continues to move forward.”
Thomas Bauer, MD, PhD is an exhausted psychiatrist with a crumbling marriage and an estranged wife and young son. Thomas is also on the outs with the administration at Saint Elizabeths (sic) Hospital in D.C. And he’s trying to get out from under the shadow of his famous psychiatrist father, Dr. Harold Bauer. Thomas Bauer harbors nagging questions about his dad’s roll in some nefarious “research” at Saint E’s. Did Harold Bauer’s research partner, Dr. Matthias Levi, figure out a way to “send consciousness through time”? If so, at what cost? And what is “Case 47”?
“Secrecy always shrouded the tenure of Levi and his father. Mysteries that fueled a burning curiosity for years.”
We received a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Please note that we won’t be rating this book. Assigning a numerical rating to a memoir just doesn’t feel right.
Kimber: Mom and I? We don’t say the above about too many books. But June Summers’ Hope Unleashed isn’t just any book. Hauntingly beautiful and searingly elegiac, Hope Unleashed is based on the life of a real woman, Wendy, as told by her mother. It also has dogs. About 40+. And about 20 cats (Nobody’s perfect). And how Wendy’s limitless love for animals and her passion for saving lives became her own lifeline as she battled an aggressive form of cancer.
Mom says you might want to grab a box of tissue before diving into this one. Or maybe a whole pallet. I’ll let Mom tell ya more. As soon as I re-up her tissue supply. Take it away, Mom:
Silly Mom. If she ever buys stock in Kleenex, we can retire and move to Tibet or somewhere. Cuz she says every once in a while a book, painting, message or song is so powerful that it’s a wee bit overwhelming.
I’m not sure what that means. But if it has Mom doing the sparkly, sniffly smiley thing it must be good.
Like getting hit with a thanksgiving tsunami. Like MercyMe’s Flawless.
This vid isn’t new. But one of us thought it’s just right for this here Thanksy Day thing. The other is still grabbing the Kleenex. Can you guess why?
Pages & Paws 