I love getting away overnight. As my husband explained to David when I told him I was going to spend a night at a friend's cottage on the Cape, women never give up the pajama parties of their youth.
Why would we? There is something to be said for staying up late talking and eating, eating and talking.
The get-together started mid afternoon, talking, snacking, and sipping wine on the couch in the cottage. Later, out to dinner we talked through Martinis, soup, and salad. Upon returning to the cottage, we talked and ate strawberries in cream and chocolate chip cookies. Then lights out and more talk before sleep.
Talk is key. The only thing different from the school day pajama parties of days gone by and the adult sleepover is that adults talk about husbands instead of boys. And eventually we do stop talking and go to sleep.
There is, of course, the inevitable shopping portion of the day. I know I'm not the only woman who gets little to no pleasure from shopping, but I am a decided minority, and the only one among my friends.
While they shop, I'm happy to spend an hour or two in a bookstore, or in this case, walking off our huge breakfast.
I hadn't walked far when I ducked out of the wind into Nantucket Natural Oils. I love essential oils, and prefer them to perfume. This was my kind of shopping: sitting at a bar in front of a variety of bottles . . .
Photo from Nantucket Natural Oils webstite.We drove back to the cottage and spent the rest of the day talking and finishing up the guacomole and chicken wings, me basking in the pleasant fragrance rising from my wrists. Good stuff , Nantucket Rain. I'm wearing it now, a scented reminder of a great pajama party.
~~~~~
Last year's trip to the Cape: Like an Early Spring.~
~~~~~
Happiness is perfume, you can't pour it on somebody else without getting a few drops on yourself.
Comments
This sounds like so much fun and you're right, you're never too old for a pajama party!
I love the first photograph of the rooftop above the grass. Makes me think of an Andrew Wyeth landscape.
I didn't realise that grown women had pyjama parties (there's a whole new fantasy ...) And I wonder if grown men ever do. As a boy I certainly went to "sleep overs" and as I got older they were nights of "crashing" at some mate's place (usually after some heavy partying). At this point in my life, it would be nice to have a sort of sleep over, without any heavy drinking. Conversation, a meal, snacks, perhaps a DVD, and no need to rush off home. But would my friends' wives permit such a thing?
Back to fantasies then ...
From sunny and unseasonably warm Narnia ...
Cheers!
Ross
Then, a day or two later, a Nantucket doctor ordered the same book. What's going on up there, I wonder?
You've made it sound as lovely as I imagine it is. And your picture captures that feeling nicely.
V.
I, too, prefer the natural essential oils to perfume.
I enjoyed this. I particularly liked the first photograph, and Ross is right; it's very reminiscent of the paintings of Andrew Wyeth.
I never did sleep overs when I was growing up... maybe because my family moved so often, and I had no close friends. Or it might be that I was just a stay at home kind of kid. I remember being asked a time or two and saying no. It must have been that,
It sounds lovely to me now, though. I envy your trip and your long-time friends. That is the difference between living in one place your whole life and moving about the planet frequently. I suppose both are enviable.
So, what does this Nantuket Rain smell like? You say it's a mixture of three oils. Curious minds want to know which three?
Thanks for bringing me back, Ruth.
My mom passed away in 1991, and since then my sister and I do something every year similar to your party. We call it our "Sister Weekend" and we've gone to several delightful places, shopped, and ate....but you are right, its the talking and sharing that make it so special.
Thanks for taking me along... I love it.
Love and Hugs
Wanda
Alice