Yesterday I got on a plane from Santa Ana to Sonoma. I was supposed to meet my friend Chris Stasse at that airport, but two things went awry:
- Chris misunderstood me, and went to SFO airport instead of Sonoma.
- After two turbulent attempts at landing in a rainstorm, which induced vomiting in many passengers (and nearly in me), the flight crew made the decision to divert our landing to Sacramento.
All’s well that ends well. After a two-hour shuttle ride – first southwest, then northwest – I finally met up with Chris at Sonoma airport, still with plenty of time to attend his badminton club’s potluck.
I am writing today from Santa Rosa, part of Northern California’s wine country. I will be living here for 10 days with Chris and his father, Mike.
Mike has been working on cars, carpentry, and construction for decades. From the main house on their property, ascending a set of exterior stairs brings you to the woodshop; descending the same stairs brings you to the “car level.” The plan for my stay is to spend time gaining craft skills in Mike’s shops, working as a sub-apprentice alongside Chris.