After a few gray days at the beach, Holy Saturday blew in with gorgeous blue skies and a Congress Hotel Coffee Pilgrimage.
The only planned activity we had the whole weekend was to take a turn on the bicycles to The Cape May Point.
Not sure why we skipped the winery but that would be a fun visit, maybe not on bikes. Drunk biking is precarious.
Beach Plum Farm was destination number one.
We parked our bikes and explored. No bike locks.
The farmhouse shop was a beaut.
Every potted planter at The Virginia and the cottages looked like they came from the nursery at Beach Plum Farm. I went straight to Greenfields to copy them when we got back to Baltimore. The shop was expertly "curated". That term is so overused now but in this case it was appropriate. Constructed with Amish traditions and no nails it inspired E to look up. I feel a new project in his future. That cabin in the woods somewhere is calling him.
The name reminds me of my little Plums in DC.
The shop felt like Nells Oleson's Mercantile from Little House on the Prairie. Way to tug at the heart strings of my generation Beach Plum Farm.
See the little spring onions in the midst of the hot sauce? I do declare it was the sweetest little place.
Duck eggs were on sale for Easter and the farm fresh eggs were everywhere on the menu at the hotels.
Even the powder room was perfectly appointed. The vintage sink and lamp, galvanized steel details were all again, expertly sourced.
I re-parked my bike and snuck in to the hoop house.
Be still my ever loving garden bulb heart. All of the Easter baskets were staged and ready to roll for Sunday.
The stone bird bath, herb garden and little sitting areas set the stage for picnic. I assume they will sell yummies during the summer.
E was so relaxed he practiced his bike tricks.
Katie rounded us up and we were off the the Lighthouse at Cape May Point for stop two on our planned Holy Saturday adventures.
A few of us headed up the Lighthouse stairs. I love taking the stairs but had way too many clothes on because it was so cold on the bikes. I had to stop mid-hike and meet my new friend Jackson, a wee thing, who was clearly having a panic attack.
His dad hiked up and Jackson was like, nope, no way I'm not going. The entire belly of the stairs started chanting, "Jackson, Jackson!!!" to encourage him up. It was hilarious and awesome. He wasn't really having a panic attack but heard someone use those words and thought it sounded like a good excuse.
We all made it to the top. Jackson included.
Chilly, beautiful, beach blue day. Mark met us on his bike at the beach.
As we headed back into town we ran into Tony who was on a walk to meet up with us.
We got into town and waved to the nice firemen we met the night before and found a church for Easter Sunday. At the liquor store I ran into Jackson's dad. Cape May had become home and familiar in only two days.
We parked the bikes, had lunch and then landed on the porch at The Virginia. I want to recreate this porch, flower boxes included.
After tennis, porch visits and showers we fancied up and headed to dinner at the Ebbitt Room. We had after dinner drinks in the bar where the piano man was celebrating his birthday. Best Holy Saturday ever.