Back home! We travel this time of year, every year, to my side of the family. Nothing makes me appreciate the cozy comforts of home more than the hassles of being away. Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home. Home, home, sweet, sweet home! John Howard Payne (1791-1852)

Reunion with the pooch! She loves her visits to Camp Stephanie, where she’s known as The Little Flower. But when we pick her up, the wagging tail, the grin, and the running around in circles while moaning all sing, Hail, hail, the gang’s all here! Dog love rights all wrongs, makes boo boos better, tilts the world's axis back into place.

Solitude. Don’t get me wrong. I love Hubby and Son dearly, it’s great to see family, and I wouldn’t be a shrink if I didn’t feel for humanity. But a week of cohabitating in a little hotel room when not carefully visiting with one relative or another, bracketed by travel in planes packed like the New York City subway during rush hour is enough togetherness already. I vant to be alone. Greta Garbo (1905-1990), from the film Grand Hotel.

Plain home-cooking, small portions please. My mouth could eat festive holiday feasts and rich sweets forever, but my gut has had enough: Mercy! Uncle! Take pity! OK, OK. Time to shift back to food as fuel, ramp up the exercise and beat the bloat. There is more to life than eating, right? Writing, for example. Dancing. Right. Left. Right, left, right…. Ahhhh. Hurts so good.

Routine. Between work, home and noise in my head, I've got enough going on without the holiday hoopla. And judging from the increased number of SOS pages from patients, they do too. I love my boring life. And I love it so much more, with a deep gratitude, after suffering a bout of the holidays.

Here's to peace and quiet in the new year!