While I didn’t grow up in this home with my dad, his house holds a huge piece of my heart. I have memories of spending weeks during the summer here with my little brother, exploring the property, swimming in the pool, finding (almost) all my dad’s secret hiding places for his valuables, and shooting BB guns at posts (one shot that ricocheted back into the window…). All of this was built by hand. The log cabin, the pool, the arena and pens, the chutes. I’m excited for him and the next step of combining property with my brothers, but there will be a big part of me that is sad that the next person who calls this house “home” won’t know all the fun that was had in it. I suppose they’ll make their own memories. (Yes… This house is for sale.) I couldn’t help but snag some shots of it the last time I was up there. Hopefully the love and labor that went into it shines through to you.