Well, Paddy, you got that right. When the great grandparents came to California in the fifties (that would be the 1850's), many of the locals still spoke Spanish. Heck, in Mendocino County, there were still folks around speaking Russian. (Ever been to Fort Ross, above Jenner?)
My ancestors came from Nova Scotia, from Western Pennsylvania, from Denmark and from Germany. To the small towns and pretty places to try to make a living, doing whatever they could. It was no easier to make a living in the dairy business, or the lumber trade, or as a blacksmith here, then, than anywhere else. But at least, to misquote Garrison Kiellor, here Mother Nature doesn't make a serious attempt to kill you three or four times a year.
Trying to find the balance between large enough for economic commerce, and small enough for elbow room is an ongoing challenge. We've moved away twice. We're back. Our kids are starting families. We don't want to be too far from the grandkids. We've seen that before. As much as grandparents spoil grandchildren, the converse is also true. Nothing charges my batteries quite as well as a hug from the 'grandson in perpetual motion'.
Home really is where the heart is.
So everyone come and visit! Spend a nickle or two. Take plenty of pictures! Gawk at the locals. As you can see, there's all kinds here!