Deek Komplec and Danny Fars were hunting cutthroat trout in the lake they had known as Congress Lake since they were boys. They weren’t skinny, fleet-footed boys chasing the biggest fish anymore. Neither of them were paunchy in their age, but bones rumbled and creaked when they moved, and when they stood from a chair … Continue reading Fishing and the Names of Mountains
Those three weeks in August, Bill and Edna changed the sheets in the two extra bedrooms seven times. Seven times they stripped all the bedding off at least one of the three beds, hauled the sheets to the laundry room, washed and dried (but did not fold) them and hauled them back to the bedrooms. … Continue reading When You Move to Montana, Don’t Tell a Soul
“At your leisure, Mr. Dahl,” Coach was smirking over his size thirteen polished oxfords at me. His oxfords were propped as usual on his desk and his chair squeaked as he rocked it which he did every time he nailed somebody the way he had just nailed me. He nailed me because I was in … Continue reading The Goat Knows More than He Can Say.
I am not gonna plump shame Sherrie, so let us just say she was a well rounded girl with a penchant for raspberry and apple pies, strawberry ice cream, beef steak, beer, deep fried anything, and etc. etc. There is nothing wrong with having penchants. I have a few myself, but I usually go for … Continue reading Here’s the Thing, Lorie, My Name’s not Pauncho