Yesterday evening, at 6:07 p.m. we had a bit of an earthquake. Like 3.0 magnitude at 3.7 miles deep, epicentered approximately a half mile as the crow flies from our house.
We were sitting down doing some computer work when it hit and Greyhair said it felt like a large truck hit the house, an event not out of the realm of possibility as new homes are being built up the street that intersects our street right at our driveway and we are downhill from the construction. Yikes! Runaway skiploader!
Alas, it was our somewhat annual Memorial Day Weekend earthquake, the first annual (in family records) occurred on Memorial Day weekend in '03, the first year we were here.
That evening, about midnight, a group of the FQ girls were here celebrating my liberation into the great blue north of California (from the red, red Central Valley) and Greyhair bailed to Lake Tahoe to avoid being contaminated by quilters. =) We are pictured above, Randy, me, Vanessa, the late Sandy B., Kathy and Pam. I was in bed and that quake felt and sounded like a wrecking ball hit the wall just behind my headboard. We all got up and compared notes, I called the Greyman on his cell phone and we went back to bed. The casualties included a small crack in the billiard room wall and a knocked over bottle of olive oil in the kitchen. Nothing major.
After the to-do over the centennial of the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco, in which the flatland of Santa Rosa was severely damaged, hubby and I talked about getting an earthquake kit together and I guess this was just another reminder that that big one is out there and could happen anytime.
Just One More Night, Please!
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