I love having my car detailed. As some folks adore the spa experience, with varnish on their toes and fingers and expensive stuff slathered on their faces, I enjoy handing my car over for the full scrub from bumper to bumper and roof to wheels. Not being particularly sensitive to chemical whiffs -- Mother Nature is more of a problem -- I am not distressed by the aroma of Armor-All. The slickness of freshly washed Gorilla Mats under my feet, the gleam of buffed body-work ... Of course, it only lasts until the next time I drive on a dirt road or past a ploughed field, but how long is a hair-do good for?

I made it to church on Easter Sunday, but not to the choir stalls -- too weak. This lung thing has kicked my ass to the extent that I wonder if it was/is more pneumonia than bronchitis (no word from the doc on the chest x-ray). I slept through the night and did not cough convulsively on rising today, which is huge progress. But cooking a simple meat-and-two-veg dinner for two (Alden came to help me eat it) was almost more than I could manage yesterday, and today I'm saving all my energy for choir practice. I probably won't be able to sing much, but I have to recover the Haydn scores that we borrowed from a choir in Regina.

Today I take the last 50-mg dose of Prednisone; starting tomorrow, the dose drops to 25 mg for another week. It really is a miracle drug -- and cheap! -- but I feel weird all the time when I'm on it. No benefits without costs in this life ... !