I’m pursuing my interest in miniatures, but I can’t get away from family stories. My mother had made an 18×12×13 inch box with a doorway and window cut out and gave it to me for Christmas because I wanted a Barbie dollhouse. After writing the story, I called my mother to ask how she had cut the doorway and window since we didn’t have a saw.

First, my mother did not remember building the box, but she was happy to know she’d done something I had a happy memory about. Then she told me we did have a saw. She used it to cut meat.

This AI-generated picture isn’t quite right. The plywood was about ¼ inch thick, and the window would have gone to the ceiling because Mom could not have done a cut out.