house + home

Last week, my mom and sister came to visit Columbus for the first time.  It took the man and I the better part of an entire Labor Day to make the apartment look like we hadn't just moved in yesterday and set off a cardboard box bomb.

While they were here, we somehow managed to squeeze four cities into five days, all the while eating our way through Indiana.  Highlights include the thirty Frenchmen at Cracker Barrel and the waitress who loudly proclaimed her distaste for foreigners, making skillet steak and setting the fire alarm off (the steak was fine), bowling with the locals, some late-night Scrabble, sampling a few of the 240 flavors of popcorn in Edinburgh, seeing the leaves begin to turn, an entire week of pre-season rain, and teaching class as my mom and sister talk and text in the back row.

We also scored a tour of the Miller House, which took some work.  The tour has been sold out since it first opened in May, so we had to show up early and cross our fingers a couple of times before the right number of people failed to show.

The extraordinary thing about the Miller House, besides combining the work of superstars like Eero Saarinen and Alexander Girard and Dan Kiley all in one place, is that a real family lived here, even as recently as three years ago.  During the tour they said that while many houses are renowned for their modernist stylings, none have had five kids play, have slumber parties, and grow up inside their walls.

It makes me think of our apartment, which, while significantly lacking in Eames chairs and marble walls, is still a living work of art, one we'll remember sixty years from now, our very own architectural landmark.

Photos by Leslie Williamson via Dwell

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