Jolt!

At 5:30 this morning I was scribbling away at the Middle East post when the ground shifted beneath me and a little growl issued from the foundation of the building. The doors on one of my bookcases rattled and the bookcase itself swayed back and forth a few inches.

Earthquake! my mind squeaked. I rushed into the living room to see if the chandelier was moving and to check on my cabinets of porcelain Chinese ladies. All was still and nothing damaged. I stood and waited. Was it a foreshock? No. A single jolt. Ah...relief.

Lest you think I’m a crazy wimp, I should point out that I live in a city where the local paper runs dire earthquake predictions on slow news days – and since international news and bad news is no longer printed, that leaves a lot of slow news days.

For years, the seismology pundits have been warning us to expect a 9.0 earthquake at anytime from the next 5 minutes to the next 50 years. We’re all supposed to have a three-day supply of food and water tucked away along with a transistor radio, batteries and a flashlight. This is no mere fault-line temblor we’re expecting but a massive subduction earthquake of the sort that only occurs every four or five centuries. Geologists have proven that the last one happened around 1600. Other scientists have proven that the coastal mountains behind Vancouver are rising one centimetre a year as the Pacific Plate and the Continental Plate push against each other.

I laugh when people say I must be glad to be back in the security of Canada after living in countries like China. Speaking of laughter and other countries, Vlanny must be laughing as she reads this. Japan is pretty much in a state of constant earthquake, isn’t it? Vlanny probably runs to see what’s going on whenever her apartment stops shaking.

Just to bring you up to date, Dad had his leg repaired at Vic General on Wednesday. On Thursday, they transported him back to the Saanich Peninsula Hospital to recover. When I arrived there after work today, I passed him in the hallway without recognizing him. For one thing, he was actually walking and for another, he was decked out in a face mask, gloves and a combination of overlapping, floor-length gauze gowns. Apparently he picked up a “bug” at Vic General and has to be swathed and swaddled before he can enter common patient areas. The up side of this is that he gets a private room which means he’s safe from the depredations of Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones. No word yet on when he can go home.

No sign of Finn yet, either. That’s not quite right – Finn is very much in evidence, there’s just no sign of him giving up his placental playground. Creature is guzzling herbal tinctures and getting some kind of cervix therapy (don’t ask for details – I like being involved in my daughters’ lives but there are definitely areas over which I’m happy to draw a discreet veil).

And finally, moments before posting, I googled ‘earthquake’ and learned that this morning’s event was a 4.5 centred 14 miles northwest of Seattle.