feel amused when the highway sign said "Redwood Highway", but those gnarled scrubby things were live oaks and the little shrubs we call mountain mahogany, feel a bit more impressed when the trees begin to look more like real mahogany, and then impressed indeed when I thought I saw some redwoods.
I'm in CA for a matter tomorrow, after which I fly across the country to a meeting someplace altogether different, after which I drive and fly to get back home again. I enjoy the solace of reading friends' posts, even as the hectic flurry of things makes me a less assiduous commenter than I'd like to be.
I liked the woman next to me on the plane today. She and her husband were taking a daughter to the central valley to allow her to do a school visit of a church college. It turned out in their denomination, only 5 schools in the whole country will "do", and this was the most remote. I assured her that inland central CA is not really that different from small town Texas. She was impressed that I had heard of the 2,500 person town in Texas from whence they came. She explained that they moved there when her husband, a minister in xyz church, "needed a rest", and that the small town was a place where a lot of ministers in xyz denomination "rested". I imagine in the back of my mind, someplace, a congregation filled with sleeping ex-ministers, a sort of rest for the non-wicked.
It's too bad I don't feel any call to any ministry of any faith. I think giving sermons weekly would be fun!