Every single piece of furniture is perfect and the way the rooms have been put together is really divine (yep I've sat here going back and forth
dying over all of the glorious details
over and
over again) how I love all of the beautifully carved
wood too.
This book was born on a cold, drizzly, late spring day when I clambered
over the split - rail cedar fence that surrounds my pasture and made my way through wet
woods to the modest frame house where Joe Rantz lay
dying.