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Dawn in the Dooryard: Reflections from the Jagged Edge of America
Following his best-selling The Detective in the Dooryard, Tim Cotton brings a fresh set of keen observations to his new collection. Drawing upon more than thirty years as Maine police officer--and even longer as a born-and-bred Mainer--Cotton shares stories about life--in Maine and elsewhere--about his experiences, and about the people he's met along the way. With generous portions of wry Yankee wit and sage wisdom, this new collection will leave you laughing, crying, or maybe both at once.
208 pages, Hardcover
Published November 1, 2022
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97 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
January 31, 2023
I grew up in Bangor. This reminds me of home.
December 2, 2022
She was already smiling when I opened the door.
I don’t knock when I visit my Mom at the old homestead, but I try not to surprise her, either. She hears me wiping my feet on the Astro-turf mat out in the back entryway. She knows right away that it’s me. This visit was a bit overdue. My three young boys bring home pathogens like they would stray kittens, we’re a rescue of sorts. A host family. I try not to expose Mom to any viral vagabonds. It had been a few weeks.
Long enough that she wrapped me in a hug before I finished the second foot-wipe on the more rug-ish indoor welcome mat. She seems tiny now, after all the years we’ve seen together. I felt like a giant as I recalled a chubby-cheeked little boy sitting on this same kitchen counter, clumsily sifting flour into a bowl of soon-to-be pastry goodness. Mom has her own memories here, she was the little sifter girl when this was her grandmother’s kitchen. She was born right in the next room, as were her father and grandfather. These old family farms sure hold some character. I squeezed her back. She’s not frail by any means, active and blessed with good health. There’s really nothing like Mom’s hugs.
She puts her library books over by the microwave to remind her to return them. Yes, she’s a reader, and no, she never took to the whole digital era. No internet or computer, her corded land-line phone hangs right here on the wall. She packs more than one library card, and they all get a good workout. Tim Cotton’s latest book, Dawn in the Dooryard, was there in the book spot, I had dropped it off on my last visit. When she finished hugging I asked if she had read it yet.
Her smile went to full on, the sort she might have made at one of Dad’s old risqué jokes, back when people got together more. Card games, a kitchen full of old friends. The rare smell of cigarettes in our non-smoking house, Mom would only get the ashtrays out for special occasions, or certain special people. Little boys condemned to their beds could hear the steady stream of boisterous laughter, peaks and valleys of pure glee. We’d sneak close enough to steal a glimpse of the action, Mom in all her glory. Hostess extraordinaire. That kind of smile.
Yes, she had finished it in three days, and yes, she had Laughed Out Loud. More than once. This has become our barometer of sorts for rating Mr. Cotton’s works. She couldn’t help but laugh as she recalled the laughs, I love to see her face light up that way. It’s good for both of us. She usually keeps a list of things to tell me, but she didn’t need her notes today. She did remark that Mr. Cotton has a knack for turning almost nothing into a story. A good story, at that.
She tried to give the book back to me but I stopped her with my traffic-cop hand. No Ma’am, I have a copy at home, that’s yours to keep. Happy late birthday. We had been over this back when I had left it, it’s one of those little things that just slips by sometimes. I would never put her on the spot. We both smiled wide and real and rolled with it.
She held the book with both hands now as she pondered who she’d lend it to first. Sorry, Mr. Cotton, I know it doesn’t help your sales numbers when they pass you around. They’ll all remember you, and perhaps generate some kind words in their own networks. Mom’s circle is much smaller these days as Time quietly takes his due toll. The Musical Chairs game of Life. I’ll bet none of them smoke cigarettes.
Aunt Joyce will probably get first dibs. Two sisters in their later eighties who will end up grinning like schoolgirls over Dawn in the Dooryard. That’s got to be worth something. It certainly is to me.
We give it 5 stars, wholesome easy reading fit for anyone on your gift list.
Sincere thanks to retired Detective Tim Cotton. Please keep them coming.
I don’t knock when I visit my Mom at the old homestead, but I try not to surprise her, either. She hears me wiping my feet on the Astro-turf mat out in the back entryway. She knows right away that it’s me. This visit was a bit overdue. My three young boys bring home pathogens like they would stray kittens, we’re a rescue of sorts. A host family. I try not to expose Mom to any viral vagabonds. It had been a few weeks.
Long enough that she wrapped me in a hug before I finished the second foot-wipe on the more rug-ish indoor welcome mat. She seems tiny now, after all the years we’ve seen together. I felt like a giant as I recalled a chubby-cheeked little boy sitting on this same kitchen counter, clumsily sifting flour into a bowl of soon-to-be pastry goodness. Mom has her own memories here, she was the little sifter girl when this was her grandmother’s kitchen. She was born right in the next room, as were her father and grandfather. These old family farms sure hold some character. I squeezed her back. She’s not frail by any means, active and blessed with good health. There’s really nothing like Mom’s hugs.
She puts her library books over by the microwave to remind her to return them. Yes, she’s a reader, and no, she never took to the whole digital era. No internet or computer, her corded land-line phone hangs right here on the wall. She packs more than one library card, and they all get a good workout. Tim Cotton’s latest book, Dawn in the Dooryard, was there in the book spot, I had dropped it off on my last visit. When she finished hugging I asked if she had read it yet.
Her smile went to full on, the sort she might have made at one of Dad’s old risqué jokes, back when people got together more. Card games, a kitchen full of old friends. The rare smell of cigarettes in our non-smoking house, Mom would only get the ashtrays out for special occasions, or certain special people. Little boys condemned to their beds could hear the steady stream of boisterous laughter, peaks and valleys of pure glee. We’d sneak close enough to steal a glimpse of the action, Mom in all her glory. Hostess extraordinaire. That kind of smile.
Yes, she had finished it in three days, and yes, she had Laughed Out Loud. More than once. This has become our barometer of sorts for rating Mr. Cotton’s works. She couldn’t help but laugh as she recalled the laughs, I love to see her face light up that way. It’s good for both of us. She usually keeps a list of things to tell me, but she didn’t need her notes today. She did remark that Mr. Cotton has a knack for turning almost nothing into a story. A good story, at that.
She tried to give the book back to me but I stopped her with my traffic-cop hand. No Ma’am, I have a copy at home, that’s yours to keep. Happy late birthday. We had been over this back when I had left it, it’s one of those little things that just slips by sometimes. I would never put her on the spot. We both smiled wide and real and rolled with it.
She held the book with both hands now as she pondered who she’d lend it to first. Sorry, Mr. Cotton, I know it doesn’t help your sales numbers when they pass you around. They’ll all remember you, and perhaps generate some kind words in their own networks. Mom’s circle is much smaller these days as Time quietly takes his due toll. The Musical Chairs game of Life. I’ll bet none of them smoke cigarettes.
Aunt Joyce will probably get first dibs. Two sisters in their later eighties who will end up grinning like schoolgirls over Dawn in the Dooryard. That’s got to be worth something. It certainly is to me.
We give it 5 stars, wholesome easy reading fit for anyone on your gift list.
Sincere thanks to retired Detective Tim Cotton. Please keep them coming.
November 9, 2022
Some books need be read in a rush, staying up all night to be finished. Tim Cotton's writing is just the opposite. These vignettes of his life should be savored, thought over, and reread another day. I have been lucky enough to have visited Maine on several occasions, climbed the Precipice on Mt. Desert Island, sailed Penobscot Bay on a windjammer, enjoyed tours from our wonderful National Park Rangers, and went antiquing up and down the coast. Awesome as these activities are, Cotton spends his time writing of the everyday life of a native Mainer, throwing in dry humor and words of wisdom. And yes, he includes some of Maine's less pleasant elements: the mud, the mosquitos, and the messes left behind by tourists. This is the ideal book for our turbulent times.Take a deep breath and remember what really matters.
August 8, 2023
I completely enjoy Tim Cottons mussings in my email and facebook notifications. This is the third book I have read of his! I live far away from the jagged edge in the softly rolling hills of humid Georgia but i have been to Maine, so I can picture what he is talking about. So much of what he writes can be understood by everyone (of a certain age) and his thoughts are our thoughts, only better described! His 'camp' descriptions are delightful - the stuff dreams are made of.
I thank him for his insight on the day to day lives of our law enforcement members, his struggles to become a writer of note, and his down home wisdom and advice!
I thank him for his insight on the day to day lives of our law enforcement members, his struggles to become a writer of note, and his down home wisdom and advice!
December 31, 2022
As usual T.C. has written another jewel of a book. Once I started I couldn't put it down. It was such a relaxing book. Always reading about Ellie and her antics. Adventures on the jagged edge of Maine and fixing the camp are part of the charm of this book. I have read his first two books, his posts on Facebook for the Bangor Police Department. Even though he is retired from the force he is irreplacable on that page! I am excited for the next installment of T.C's wonderful talent!
February 15, 2023
Another great read by Timothy Cotton. The stories left me laughing on more than one occasion. I have loved all his books thus far, as it feels like I’m sitting around a campfire just listening to a friend.
June 23, 2023
Fun collection of brief humorous essays. Some good moments. Oddly, the collection is presented in alphabetical order. Even more oddly, alphabetical includes the articles A/The. Seems kind of lazy on the editors part.
November 28, 2022
Tim Cotton is always able to elicit a smile of recognition for his observations on the simple things in life. I feel as if I know him personally, and he is a man worth knowing.
December 9, 2022
More good musings from The Guy from the North. Or something like that.
December 30, 2022
Another fantastic set of short stories to make you laugh and cry.
July 3, 2024
Hilarious. One of the most enjoyable books I’ve read in a long, long time. I can’t wait for the next.
July 12, 2024
I like the local Maine flavor. But his alliterations and complex vocabulary seem forced and muddy the subject. Very very short essays - musings really. I do like his dog Ellie.
July 3, 2025
not what I was expecting
August 6, 2025
What started as an “education” for my “outastater son in law became a yearly request for the latest book.He hails from Pa where “dooryards” are non existent!He quickly relished the humorous dialect with a duel edged message.He “ borrowed “Got Warrants and I may need one to get it back!It is dog eared having been passed to his friends to peruse.However he received the next 2 books as Detective in the Dooryard and Dawn in the Dooryard by request.It has become a yearly request for Tim Cotton’s latest release.Could not wait until Xmas.Bought 3 copies of Donut Holes for the Soul.The title alone sold me.TC never disappoints.He manages to take the mudane and and make it interesting.He can give you a “lecture with a punchline but you do not lose site of the message.If you haven’t read his work ,you are missing out a treat.I so look forward to his daily “musings”!I am an avid fan of Ellie and the grands!I”I digress”!
February 3, 2025
Reading a Tim Cotton book is like taking time to remember one's own life, a rare reaction for a writer to generate in his readers, and much appreciated. Many of his stories take me back to childhood vacations home to Maine, others to simple yet treasured memories of family. Play Ball brought the dust out in the air, remembering the many Reds games we listened to on 700 AM WLW on the car radio or at home, often on an old transistor radio I still have in the garage. Even better, the rare times we could pick up a Red Sox game at night while they were on the road across the Midwest. Mr. Cotton's style of writing is comfortable, like having a conversation with a friend. God bless him, keep them coming.
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews