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10 February 2016

Tiny Town - Missoula, Montana

(How, you may ask, does my post title so confidently assert this cloud-havered town is Missoula? Easy enough: what other Montana metropolis features random insets of crazy angle-street blocks?)

I rather like flying (aside from seat 31F being four rows from the back of the plane AKA too close to the restroom - ew!). I still get a bit giddy at the acceleration into take off, and I sometimes (quietly) say 'wheee!' at the uplift moment of wheels off the ground. 

As kids, our dad took us up in his small plane, a two-seater Aercoupe during my early, impressionable years. I was mesmerized by the view below of tiny cars and tiny farmhouses and tiny horses in the tiny field that I knew took me a really long time to trudge across. 
Apparently, my brother also felt this Lilliputian pull. Per family lore, Mum noticed his wee self heading across the front pasture at a good clip, and barely intercept ed him with a hollered, "Where are you going?"
He confidently flung over his shoulder, "To Tiny Town!", and kept moving toward his goal. I think he had a couple Hot Wheels cars in his pocket for cruising with the Tiny Town folk. To his credit, he was at least headed in the right direction.

See where we're headed in the real world at JourneysWithGod.com .


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