I grew up in a hand-built log cabin on the side of a mountain in Montana. No indoor toilet, wood heat, and a view that made the hard parts feel smaller.
Home was not a floor plan. It was weather, wood smoke, and the people who showed up with food when someone was sick. I am still writing that book — not because I have it all figured out, but because those years taught me what “enough” looks like.
When I sew doll clothes now, I think about homes: small, warm, made carefully, meant to be lived in.