At some point in our young lives, my sister made a cake. This stands out because my sister doesn’t bake. Food is a necessity to her, lucky woman, unless we’re talking about salsa or hot sauce. Okay, apples, popcorn…she’s a grazer. She’s petite and lean — fit. And she’s more beautiful than she’s ever been. Don’t misunderstand. She’s always been a lovely woman (outside of her cranky junior high phase), but at this point in her life she is truly lovely. Is it the recent empty nest? Perhaps the East Coast climate? Or is it that she is blissfully free of those of us on the West Coast where she truly belongs?