It’s Memorial Day and I’m making lists of things that need accomplishing in the next few days and using damp heat on my sore back–gardening sometimes equals lifting which equals pain. And while I know how to properly lift heavy bags of dirt, it doesn’t mean I always do it right.

Two things: I want to wish veterans and families of veterans a good holiday and a sincere thank you. And if you lost someone who served in the US military, my deepest sympathies.

Second, I’ve got another short story recommendation: “Love of My Days” by Louise Erdrich in the latest issue of The New Yorker. I read it yesterday and it’s staying with me because it was so transporting, the voice reflects the times, the details are authentic, and it’s a Western. It begins: This happened on the table-flat plains before most farms had telephones. So these incidents came about because news traveled slow. Early one morning, Jake Weir went to town to see about a mixture of grains for his horses. When he returned to his farm and went into the house he saw a stranger sitting at his table. 

I used to glibly recommend that short story writers shoot the sheriff on the first page to yank readers into the story events. While this tale doesn’t accomplish that, the stranger-comes-to-town motif is working just fine. And the table-flat plans means it’s happening in the Dakotas in winter. And might I add that a remarkable horse team are the stars of the story. Then there’s also a possee and I cannot remember the last time I read a story with a possee in it. And might I also add that Erdrich is still at the top of her writing game as evidenced by this not-a-wasted-word adventure.