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Tuesday, August 16, 2011



When I was 5 years old, my parents got me a doll house for Christmas (yes, we were a Jewish family that celebrated Christmas, but just for the gifts...a whole other blog topic).  I thought that doll house was the most magical thing I'd ever seen.  I spent hours in the pretend world of the perfect little family and their pretty little furniture.  The future was written on those teeny tiny walls - my goal in life was to have a family, a house, and the imaginary life I saw in those miniature rooms.  Though not everything in my life went smoothly (honestly, whose life does?), this dream did.  Peter and I created the doll house family that I had imagined when I was five - "a boy for you and a girl for me," a la the song Tea for Two.  We bought the doll house - well, it needed a lot of work, but it was our doll house nonetheless. Here I was able to indulge my compulsion to organize, sorting itty bitty socks and color coordinating closets.  
FALL, 1993

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