When we were kids, Patty came up with myriad artistic projects, not only crafting miniature articles of clothing and even more minuscule plates of fake food (ranging from potato salad to a slice of pie with a lattice crust, all smaller than a fingernail), but also inventing an entire world of made-up inhabitants who lived in my dollhouse, which we named "Herman's Hotel" . . . because who needs boring old dolls when you could populate the place with more interesting creatures? The proprietor, Herman, was a "woozle," born of bright orange yarn and a knitting machine. Patty gave him his sweet lopsided smile, googly eyes, and a dash of style in what she called his Hawaiian shirt (no sleeves, because woozles obviously don't have arms!).