If you swing by Woodhorn Estates in the daytime you'll see all the horse and buggys parked in the driveway. Toiling away in his basement are a legion of little guys all named Yoder in denim jackets, straw hats and beards sweating over coal-fire heated irons pressing down all that veneer. Mrs. Martinelli, in the meantime, is out in the unheated garage spinning straw into gold.