Sweethearts and waffles.

Dear friends,

Here’s where I spent Saturday evening:

I didn’t go there to eat. I went to see the young man in the white shirt sitting at the counter.

And this group of girls.

It was Sweetheart Ball night in our little town. Remember the girl who sent this clever invitation to Parker? She’s the one in the silver dress on the far right.

They look pretty spiffy, don’t you think?

Parker and his date accompanied the other four girls to dinner at the Waffle House, then to the dance. (Apparently, it’s a popular thing here for girls and boys to go in groups, as well as in couples. I arrived late at the Waffle House and made the mistake of asking the other girls where their dates were. I’m not allowed to talk anymore.)

I was really disappointed I didn’t arrive in time for a waffle. Waffles make great Saturday night dinners. But I was busy snapping photos across town where Kate and her date and six other couples had gathered for a spaghetti dinner, hosted by the parents of Kate’s date.

Kate and her date look pretty fab, too.

You know what else I like about our new town? It’s apparently no big deal for girls to borrow dresses from each other. Kate’s wearing a borrowed dress, as were a few other girls in her group.  You gotta love a group of pragmatic teenage girls. (Of course, there are three big dances a year in this town. We’d all go broke buying a new dress for every dance.)

Kate’s friends are also very pragmatic about their feet.

She and her friend wore Toms (also borrowed).

I’d like to propose that if Toms are suitable footwear for sweetheart dances, they should be suitable for ladies wearing suits in offices. Would you make that a rule, please? My feet would bless you.

With gratitude {for Saturday night dances where waffles and exceptionally level-headed kids prevail},

Joan, who as she wrote this late Saturday night was still craving waffles but, sadly, had to settle for cinnamon toast because her waffle iron broke and she has yet to replace it