Design Notebook; A Ranch House Built for a Life That Used to Be
Everything looks smaller now. The mountain on Forest Avenue scaled on the way to school is just a slight pitch in the sidewalk, the big highway that stretched from the front of the house all the way to Chicago is only a road. Seeing an old house again after so many years is a little bit like unearthing old clothes -- a once-mod sweater that lost its shape, a newborn's teeny white shirt with built-in mittens, brought home from the maternity ward. Rooms are like hand-me-downs, lived-in and baggy. They bring flashes of recognition when you unfold them even though you know they no longer fit.