No One Diets on Thanksgiving.

I remember thinking how often we look, but never see ... we listen, but never hear ... we exist, but never feel. We take our relationships for granted. A house is only a place. It has no life of its own. It needs human voices, activity and laughter to come alive.

My mother phones daily to ask, "Did you just try to reach me?" When I reply no, she adds, "So, if you're not too busy, call me while I'm still alive," . . . and hangs up.

All of a sudden, I feel very old and very tired. Maybe when I get to California, the smog, brush fires, floods, and earthquakes will cheer me up.

Before you try to keep up with the Joneses, be sure they're not trying to keep up with you.

It is my theory you can't get rid of fat. All you can do is move it around, like furniture.

The term 'working mother' is redundant.