This is a classic case of a continuing issue I have with my BT listmates:
They mention a book. Over and over again. I finally get around to reading it. I adore said book, and then I kick myself for not picking it up years ago.

This is one of those children's books I wish I had discovered when I was still a kid. Little me would have been in absoolute heaven. I know this because big me was pretty much in heaven. Quirky grownups! Abandoned Victorian treasures! Attics full of antiques and trunks full of ball gowns! (from Worth, no less. Insert drool here.) And the ultimate wish fulfillment--parents that plan to buy one of the old mansions. Sigh.

It's like the perfect fantasy novel for folks that love antique and junk hunting. Plus, it's just funny. Silly me for waiting so long to finally pick it up.