The jolt woke me, along with the noise of the old glass perfume bottle rattling on the top of my dresser. I waited--more and bigger? Done?--until the bottle had settled into silence.
"Elsinore," I mumbled.
The spouse grunted.
I listened to the restless sounds of the offspring moving in their beds, wondering if the cat would come to visit. Sometimes, when he jumps on the bed, it feels like an earthquake. When I didn't hear any fussing, even from the cat, I rolled over and went back to sleep.
It was a little quake--M4.4 at 4:04 am (Here! A fun little animation of this morning's event, which incidentally was somewhere around the Whittier Narrows Fault, not Elsinore, though I'm not sure they've pinned it down yet).
Just a little reminder that IF YOU'RE NOT PREPARED FOR DISASTER (EARTHQUAKE, FIRE, FLOOD, ICE STORM, TORNADO, WHATEVER!), GET PREPARED NOW.
(Don't complain. I kept it shorter than usual.)
It's another gorgeous day in the neighborhood. The back is a happy haven for weeds, and I need to go pull things out by their roots. The windows need washing. The birds are all crazy and everyone is defending the fountain right now...from each other, from me, from the cat watching from the window.
And the cat, he is running from window to door to window as birds fly at each other, and offer strange calls of lust and challenge. His frantic cries of frustration echo theirs.
I need to buy a new refrigerator. *sigh*
There's the matter of airline schedules. whee!
I need to take some photos. And look at some photos.
I am hungry. For spring, for the road.
I am restless; I am waiting.
A little earthquake. Life goes on.
Go listen to some good music: "Little Earthquakes" from the album Little Earthquakes by Tori Amos.