Mrs. Appleyard is what would happen if Anne of Green Gables was a Bostonian in her forties or fifties, during World War II. There's a similar level of fancifulness that's been harnessed to raising children (most of whom are young adults by the time of the book) and refinishing old furniture.
It's thus the ultimate comfort read for me, since it's whimsical without verging into twee. Mrs. Appleyard is also, in some ways, the Peg Bracken of her era: for all the crafts and pies, she's equally capable of declaring that the Pilgrims were thankful for simple food, safety, and shelter, so Thanksgiving doesn't need to be a big show-off-y thing.
The comfort here is also in the sense of a soothing round of seasons, a cycle of life -- the more so because Mrs. Appleyard is a proper New Englander who can tell stories back to the first settlement and never throws anything away. It's a very rooted book.