My favorite thing about our house is that it feels like a treehouse, and my favorite people are those who make this observation. Most recently, a five-year-old boy we’d never met before came in our back door, looked around, and asked me point blank: “Is this a treehouse?” But living here hasn’t quenched my lifelong desire to have a real one — a fancy one. I’ve been collecting images for years, and I’ll be acquiring this new book reviewed and previewed at the LA Times, but I can’t imagine there’s a better image in it than this one.