So it was about 6 PM. I’d just come home from a meeting at the Weekly—shopped for dinner, double cut pork chops I’m gonna stuff with fresh veggies and fresh mozzarella and top with a nice au jus, then serve with a good salad—and sat down at my desk to see what was what with the afternoon email. Suddenly the whole house shifted, like a wave went under it, pushing me first left, then right. I thought maybe one of the big dogs had jumped into the house through the front window behind me. No. So I called out to my daughter, Madeleina–who was sitting in the huge living room, a converted garage that has a cement flooring under the needs-to-be-replaced carpeting–“Honey? Did you feel anything?”
“Dad! What the freak was that? Everything shook. I thought the roof was gonna fall in!”
“That was an earthquake, darling.”
“That was so cool!”
And it was. So long as the next one isn’t stronger. And that was the first one we’ve had in the 13 years we’ve lived here in Joshua.
NOTE: The photo has nothing to do with the earthquake we had here. It’s a generic photo of a small earthquake.
