GROWING UP IN A FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT HOUSE, Excerpt:
“Which Christmas cookies should we make this year?” my mom asked as she pulled down her small, wooden recipe box. She carefully slid out the three-inch-by-five-inch index cards filed in the box after the “cookies” divider tab. Kurt and I huddled around our huge butcher-block kitchen table. The five-foot-by-three-foot solid table consisted of drawers, cabinets and pull-out chutes for flour and sugar (like the doors of a library book drop).