I feel sorry for boys.

Here's why:

To my knowledge, most boys do not regularly gather to cook meals for one another.
They do not collect vintage china and coordinating linens.
The would see no need for candlelight.

Last week I was invited to a dinner hosted by my favorite birthday girl, Sarah Jane.
This invitation is one that I never, ever turn down.

You've heard me talk about what a great cook she is.
See for yourself. She made this incredible fresh veggie and goat cheese lasagna and buttery, garlicky bread. I contributed a chopped Mediterranean salad.
Loey capped it all off with a Texas sheet cake. Holly and Kelly provided some wine and lots of laughs.


Ruby made the exclusive guest list this time around.

She brought her date, Lucy, and put her down for a nap before the meal.

Do those gals look like fun, or what?

As a special b-day surprise to Sarah, Holly had the idea for each of us to bring song lyrics that remind us of her. Anyone who knows Sarah knows that music (like goat cheese) is the way to her heart.
Lois started things off, and the waterworks commenced almost immediately.

Between the four of us, we covered the following artists: Griffin House, Martina McBride, Paul McCartney, Out of the Grey, and Rhianna. We're one eclectic bunch. No genre is too far from our reach.

I have opted not to post the picture of all of us sobbing, holding soggy tissues up to our eyes, etc... Trust me, it wasn't pretty.

But this brings me back to my original sentiment: Boys just don't understand the catharsis of sharing a big ol' batch of happy, nostalgic, time-trusted tears. And that's too bad, really.

Here I am with the birthday girl, both of us fully composed again.

This is really neither here nor there, but I loved this shot of her Anthro knobs. That cat peeking out makes it even better.

Thank you for the loveliest of evenings, my true blue Sarah.