my uncle.

my uncle reminds me that my dream doesn't have to be bought in a store.
my uncle reminds me that a good life is a simple one, built from the ground up.
we share a romantic view of the homestead era, so i know he will always applaud my efforts to minimize modern convenience.
after visiting his forest home we're so excited for life's possibilities. we survived a hand-shovel and toilet-paper roll bathroom situation with four kids. we can do anything.

our boys were in paradise. their dreams from fire-making to gun-firing were brought to life. i can't count the number to time that their pure, joyous squeals rang out through the trees.
i don't wonder how my uncle can stand live without plumbing or electricity. instead i wonder how any of us can stand living without a campfire and the quiet sounds of mother earth's bounty.
today i'm facing the aftermath and wondering why we have so much junk when i know we could be just as content with much less.
i'm so thankful for my uncle's commitment to his dream and his willingness to let us be a part of it.