Cape May, and Don't Give Up Until You Drink from the Silver Cup

Watercolor image of Congress Hall, our hotel, by artist Patricia Rainey.

The Pink House in Cape May's historic district.

I get a facial maybe once every year or two. Today was the day, at the Sea Spa in Congress Hall.

The facialist, Ewa, had nimble fingers and my skin felt dewy, my lips were lightly glossed--I noticed these things when she gently nudged me to wake from my cat nap at the end. Easy to drift off to the recorded sounds of waves rolling and seagulls calling.

The changing rooms walls were painted a juicy watermelon color, to contrast with white lockers and white wicker. The shower curtains had streamers of ribbons from top to bottom, in day-at-the-beach colors like sky blue, cotton candy and sunny yellow. The private treatment room looked like a cabana; bright porch-paint-yellow and white stripes. It seemed like the perfect spot for a girls getaway or bridal party gathering [the hotel hosted weddings yesterday and today]. I kept thinking of Moey and of Figgy, with whom I've gone to spas and donned terrycloth robes.

Seaside spa details:

• Clean aquamarine and white in waiting room. And on the walls there and in the corridor, mounted on white in white frames: antique swimsuits. A tiny, timeworn tank from the 1920s; a forties-era one-piece with three white covered buttons near the hip; from the 1950s, a little girl's red suit with ruching, an older girl's black swim dress with pink rickrack along the hemline, and a pair of men's "Mr. Cabana" bath trunks; and those rubbery bubble-textured, flower-topped swim caps from the 1960s [if they were still in style, I'd need one].
• Aquamarine-dipped pencils in the locker to fill out the satisfaction survey. And something I've never seen before in the spas I've been to: a packaged ReadyBrush, a "prepasted toothbrush" with paste already on the DuPont bristles. Just activate with water. Package says "airline-friendly" and good for after lunch. Good point.
• What's Your Virtue? lip gloss in a jar at the counter--like candy. "It feels like silk," said Lauren Bishop, Sea Spa supervisor, who was at the counter. I chose Kindness for its name, but also like the coral color [$13]. 

H. and I also slept till 11; took a long walk by the beach and in the town; went to dinner at The Ebbitt Room in The Virginia Hotel; and popped into Fralinger's Salt Water Taffy store to get small sacks for Punch, Figgy, Sis & Don and us. You know, handfuls of those happy taffy colors like orange, mint green, yellow, pink, creamy white.

We don't want to return home tomorrow to life's hectic pace. But somewhere between bites of Oysters Rockefeller and sips of mint julep from a silver cup tonight, H. gave me some targeted advice on getting back to business as a writer on a larger project that has overwhelmed me, and being less derailed by Punch in our home, which feels stressful and consuming. First rule: Get out of house and go to library to work, like he does. At the library, my bed--with its cozy flannel sheets--cannot beckon.

Grateful for the sea and the new perspective it promises.

Good night.

TCOY

1. Lots of comforting hot tea for throat.
2. That facial.
3. Good tooth care [not with ReadyBrush, which I haven't tried yet, but with brush, floss and mouthwash from home]. 
4. Looked at endless glistening waves and saw shells from razor clams, oysters and horseshoe crabs.
5. Polished my nails.