Earthquake

12:13pm I'm settling down to write for the first time today after settling Ethan down to sleep and my desk starts to shake. Growing up in Southern California, I'm not a newby to earthquakes. I've survived an 8 before where I was thrown across my dorm room, my legs cut by broken glass. But I also grew up with a mother, who forced us to live on the Queen Mary after quakes. She figured what could be safer than being on a boat. We neglected to tell her that the Queen Mary in particular was melded to the harbor because that way she couldn't scare us with every jingle of our chandelier, the clinking of glass, a pencil rolling off the dining table, anything that might indicate a quake. And so alone in the house, except for Ethan of course, I tried to calm myself. Okay, it's probably a heavy truck driving down Hiland Rd. Okay, my laptop is now shaking and the house is definitely creaking. Okay, this is certainly a quake and one that wasn't quiting anytime soon. I leaped out of my chair and hid under the doorframe to my office. Sorry, it's my Southern Californian quake drill. But then, the house gave another tremendous thunder and all my nerves already sensitized to my mother's fears let loose. I yanked Ethan from his nap (you have to understand that a mother doesn't do this unless she's desperate because those naps are so precious) and pressed him to my chest and returned to my doorframe. Panting. Another tremor...and then Ethan started to wail.

Of course, after that, nothing. Not even a phone call from the husband to check on me. It was a normal day in Alaska after all. A 4.7 20 miles north of Anchorage (that's about where I live). And there went my writing time! Argh....