“Home Sweet Home”
Since I was a small child, I’ve been fascinated by other people’s houses. My kindergarten had a hinged, folding house that was filled with child-size furniture: a stove, sink, and chairs. I loved that room and mourned when I could not use it because too many other children were playing in it. When I got older, I always loved museums that had period rooms to gaze at and see how people lived in different times. I am not attracted so much to large eighteenth-century rooms, however. They seem too impersonal and grand. It would be hard to imagine children running unhampered through these large palatial dwellings or sitting in those spindly and uncomfortable chairs. And as for romping with pets, well . . . But give me a room from a country cottage, and I’m all set to admire the furniture, tools, and implements of daily life. Along with this infatuation with houses comes my love of dollhouses. My grandfather, who did woodwork, made me a dollhouse for my birthday w...