10 July 2010

A Tremor

It was naptime for the kiddos. Which means I was feeling grrrrr-eat. Stretched out on the couch in the direct path of the cool air blasting from our air cooler I was flipping pages of my latest novel. Behind me, facing the other direction in one of our pink armchairs (yes, my husband loves me, I have pink armchairs) Mike was on his laptop.

In the middle of a thrilling (sorta) paragraph about the life of a 19th century English school-teacher and the man who was making comical attempts to court her (I know, I know... I like to read deep, meaningful prose) the couch began to shake.

I raised my eyes off the page, waiting silently for Mike to laugh or jump on me or do something of the sort.

Seconds pass.

Still waiting.

No laughing. No jumping. No something.

So I turn around expecting to see him standing behind my head with a grin on his face. He's not there. He is in his chair, turned around looking at me with the same bemused expression on his face.

I'm thinking "If he's still sitting over there, then how did the couch shake?"

He's thinking "If she's still laying over there, then how did my chair shake?"

After some strange dialogue, we came to the conclusion that it must have been an earthquake. What else could make the house, the EARTH shake like that? It was odd. Very odd.

We went back to our prior occupations, but my mind was whirring and could no longer focus on the 'The Dowry of Lydia Smith,' no matter how interesting the story. "Was it gonna happen again?" "Should I grab my sleeping angels and run downstairs and outside to the big dirt patch behind our house?" "Were any of these cement walls or ceilings or floors damaged with that little shaking?" "Should I grab my sleeping angels and run downstairs and outside?" "Did I just really just feel an earthquake?" "Should I grab my sleeping angels and run downstairs?" "Could that have been anything other than an earthquake?" "Should I grab my sleeping angels and run?" "Mmmn... I didn't know that earthquakes happened in the part of the world." "SHOULD I GRAB MY SLEEPING ANGELS!!?"

Yeah. I think you get the point. Whirring. Lots of whirring.

But no I didn't grab my sleeping angels and run downstairs and outside to the big dirt patch behind our house. I remained in my reclining position in the coolest spot in the house. Not cause I was feeling lazy or because I care that much about my kids' naptime, but because I put my trust in God and cast my fear on Him. Bible says to do that and it works.

I did later find out it registered 3.0 on the Richter Scale, which is nothing. And I also found out that if you happened to be standing or moving around at the time of the tremor you probably didn't feel it.

Now I suppose I can cross "experience an earthquake" off my list of things to do in life. Of course I'll have to write it ON the list before I cross it off. Don't you love doing that? Makes me feel so productive. But wait, what am I talking about? I don't even have a life-long to-do list.

Aaanyway... as harmless as this wee earthquake was (no injuries in the whole city) I don't think I'd like to do that again.

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