Perfect photos to use the "old west" action on.
He gets up, carves a little, listens to the radio, maybe watches some football or hockey or baseball, depending on the season, carves, cleans some guns, maybe hangs out with his bart, Chief, and goes to bed.
I want to live that life.
Or Sisualik. But I've seen the ugliness that forced him away from there, so I'm on the fence about Sisualik. I've experienced it first hand. And lately, I'm sick to my stomach about it. I haven't been to my camp since July. I haven't picked a single berry this year. Dean hasn't even gotten us ONE caribou yet. OK done venting.
Huh, the universe is moving in the wrong direction.
But, it seems like everything is OK when I go to camp. Sisualik, or Chickaloon. My best memories are in those places growing up. Scared of moose and porcupine. And bees.
I love visiting my dad's "craft" home. He built it himself, with help from friends and kids, one log at a time. He's always doing something there. Even when it's checking out weasels in the wood pile.
Like making gun racks for his THOUSAND guns. Seriously, this man has more guns than we do...and that is a LOT. But it's OK cause he can make gun racks for them and hang them up with trigger locks, even though no kids are around.
I want a pot rack like this in my house.
Too bad I live in Kotzebue.