When asked, "How are you?," a doctor I once knew would always respond, "Sitting up, taking nourishment, thanks." After the tax-time trauma of the day before, yesterday was a day to sit in the sun, retreat into a book, keep the wood stove cranked up, and sip some of Judy's chicken soup. Company is coming today, balm of another sort. Easter dinner is the least taxing (there's that dreaded word again) of all holiday meals, so I shan't have to exert much effort there. In other words, I'm recovering nicely.