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Friday, April 17, 2009

Just a Drop of Monterey... and Less than that of God's Love

The other day Gabe and I were made aware of a job fair in Monterey. So of course he wanted to go. I thought, "I have not been to Monterey for a while, maybe after the fair we can go to Cannery Row or something," and decided to accompony him.

I have been completely enamoured with C.S. Lewis of late. So this is what I planned on doing while Gabe was at the Fair.
Before we had even left Salinas Gabe got a phone call. It was a job offer and not only a job offer, but an offer for exactly what we need (and what we did not realize we would need). God is so good to us - He answered prayers that we did not even know to pray.

Obviously our prior reason for going to Monterey was rather unecessary (we still stopped by), but we decided to go anyway because we so seldom do. Which meant I was able to spend time with the most beautiful person in the world in one of the most beautiful places in the world. 

I know that sounds corny, but if you know my husband you know what a magnificent creation he is: compassionate, honest, ever aware, affectionate. And if you've ever been to Monterey you know the charm to which I am referring. One which the world over envies.

Actually I am falling in love every day with Salinas (which is odd since I grew up thinking it was gang infested and dirty - I'm happy to be proven wrong). I am truly and utterly amazed almost every day that such beauty exists and that God saw fit for us to live in it... and the fact that for some reason He chooses to reveal Himself to me in just about all of it is... well, I have no words.
And you know that is something.

Really not quite sure what this is about, but I enjoyed the window.

God's paint pallet must be overwhelmed.

Quite an appropriate name for such a sweet park.

He deserves a lifetime of kisses... I think I can handle that.

Monterey by Daniel O'Connell
In the mantle of old traditions, 
In the rime of a vanished day, 
The shrouded and silent city
Sits by her crescent bay.

The ruined fort on the hilltop
Where never a bunting streams,
Looks down, a cannonless fortress,
On the solemn city of dreams.

Gardens of wonderful roses,
Climbing o'er roof and wall,
Woodbine and crimson geranium,
Hollyhocks, purple and tall.

Mingle their odorous breathings 
With the crisp, salt breeze from the
Sands, where pebbles and sounding sea-
Shells are gathered by children's hands.

Women, with olive faces,
And the liquid southern eye,
Dark as the forest berries
That grace the woods in July.

Tenderly train the roses
Gathering here and there
A bud - the richest and rarest -
For a place in their long, dark har.

Feeble and garrulous old men
Tell, in the spanish tongue,
Of the good, grand times at the mission.
And the hymns that the fathers sung.

Of the oil and the wine, and the plenty,
And the dance in the twilight gray -
"Ah these," and the head shakes sadly,
"Were the good times in Monterey."

Behind in the march of cities -
The last in the eager stride
Of villages born the latest
She dreams by the ocean side.

Now don't you just have the urge to go buy this suit? :-)

It isn't lonely, just happily thinking.

We stumbled upon a place called Colton Hall. It happens to be the place where the Constitution of California drafted and signed. And the very first public school in California.

Can you imagine how many feet walked, stomped, danced, ran across those floors?

Not the same view, but same window that the first Californians saw through.

I was very happy to be there.

This was an archway in another historical site - we didn't have time to explore, maybe next time.

What would a day trip be without McDonald's? 

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