Carmel-by-the-Sea, California
Returning to Carmel for the first time since March 2020 has been truly wonderful. Joel and I have been staying in the house I have rented before, which is located out by what is known in Carmel as 'the point.' It is a short walk to the beach and a bit longer one into town but very doable. It is a wonderful house, certainly larger than we need, but with the necessary well-appointed kitchen (read: Wolf range), both indoor and outdoor fireplaces, and an additional seating area around a fire pit. It follows my creed: Never stay in a house that isn't equal to or better than the one you live in!
Time's been spent indulging in a great deal of recreation and relaxation. We've been watching baseball playoff games at various pubs and restaurant bars, walking around town, enjoying the bagpiper who plays down the sun at The Inn at Spanish Bay. Weather has been a bit chilly, but we did pack appropriate attire.
Our rental car is a hybrid Hyundai Santa Fe, which Joel is enjoying driving. I have never driven an SUV in my life, a record I am not inclined to break, so Joel is our designated driver. He likes driving this car so much that he has been checking them out on sales sites online. The most fun part of this car is that it has Florida license plates. Did someone drive it from Florida to Central Coast, California? From the first day, whenever something odd or funny would happen to us, we would say to each other in explanation: We're from Florida. When we needed help with the streaming system at the house and a young latino came to the house to help us (part of the family who manages this property), I told him: By the way, we're NOT from Florida. When we parked next to a car with Nevada plates, I asked Joel: Do you think they are really from Nevada?
Joel dropped me off at the Mission Basilica to attend Mass last Sunday. When I used to spend months in Carmel, I would attend Mass every Sunday. The first time was with Sandra. That was back in the day of Father John, who was splendid. The current pastor is an older priest. He is Irish and retains a bit of his brogue. His homily was about peace, and illustrated by his own experience coming of age in Northern Ireland at the time of the troubles. Peace is possible, he said. As we look at the world today, at the Middle East and Ukraine; at what recently happened in our country again, this time in Maine, it's hard to believe that. But praying for peace is a good thing.
We've been away from the news which makes me realize how grinding on one the news can be. I grew up with a father who felt it was important to read the news every day. When I took Political Science in my first year of college, the professor admonished us from his assumption that none of us were aware of what was happening in the world. But now we have a 24-hour news cycle which is designed like everything else in media, social and otherwise, to suck us in and keep us sucking. A break points out what happens when you step away from the incessant stream. At home, I check the news and the weather online every morning along with my emails, then I check again before bedtime. And (guilty pleasure), I do like to watch Anderson Cooper on CNN while I'm cooking. But being away in this beautiful place, I stopped it all. I even stopped Wordle, breaking my streak of 400+ days. And it all felt good.
It will be difficult to leave here, but we still have events to come, including a birthday, watching the World Series, and attending the annual Halloween parade. And surely another visit to hear the bagpiper play down the sun, closing another day in this magical place. So along with my prayer for peace I am also endeavoring to acknowledging my gratitude. I am grateful for being safe. For being happy. And, most certainly, for once again being here in my beloved Carmel.
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