My daughter asked why I write so much. I don't think it's so much. It's something I enjoy; a hobby. OK, an addiction. I'll be truthful. It's my journal, my diary. Some of it's good, some just rambles. Sometimes I wonder what keeps people coming back.

I'm bleary-eyed this morning. It was a late night and an early morning. If we hadn't gone to bed so late I'd wake Emily up and go to the diner. Before the Easter crowds.

I went to a 50th birthday party last night. It was great just being out and amongst a crowd of people. I knew a little more than a handful, and everyone was happy to be socializing. I spent time talking to an old high school acquaintance that I hadn't seen since one of the reunions from years ago. It was nice talking to someone who had something to say and asked questions. He was very interested in the whole blog thing. I told him I'd problably write about the party, and here I am. It took place in the birthday girl's beautiful home. She's lucky to have a family that she's close to and a lot of friends. The place was full of people. The array and quantity of food was pretty amazing. I think everyone had a really a great time.

I'm going to get a start on the day; I have a lot of cleaning up that I'd like to do. It's way too cold to do anything outside, which is too bad. At least the sun is shining.