It took three shakes to get my attention.
Well, maybe two.
I slept like a baby through the first — the earthquake that with rapidly increasing knowledge and expertise we call a fore-shock. It took place about two a.m Friday night — or the wee hours of Saturday morning, however you prefer to think about it.
The second — the BIG ONE — came Saturday night around eleven p.m. No need to lie. That shake rattled me. Along with attic rafters and joists, all the way to the foundation of our just about refurbished fifties Ranch.
But thank God some things remain the same; my steady-as-a-rock better-half wouldn’t have breathed a word had I, in my confused state, not asked,
“What’s going on?”
“Earthquake.”
Just that. As if such were an everyday occurrence in Oklahoma. Before he rolled over to go to sleep. To leave me alone with my thoughts, trying like heck to process his answer.
Earthquakes don’t happen in Oklahoma. Certainly not everyday. Well, maybe a long, long time ago, who knows. And the last three out of four nights — the last three out of three ‘every-days”, if we don’t count Sunday. And why not ignore Sunday since it’s evident that earthquake epicenters believe in setting aside Sunday as a holy non-roller sort of day, the way most believed — a very long time ago, when my fifties Ranch was brand spanking new — in my slice of the world.
Like most places in the U.S.A., Sunday is business as usual. Except at Chick-fil-A restaurants. And liquor stores. (Because we are located in the Bible Belt, after all.) And now to complete a holy trinity — the earthquake business — which must need its Sabbath rest. So it can start fresh on Monday. I suppose.
In spite of several nearby states feeling the effect of the Big One, I forgot it by Sunday morning. I went out to my garden as I do everyday when it’s not raining. I forgot about it until I read a blog comment Sunday night. Then after responding, I forgot it again — as I sat out of the garden all day Monday waiting for the boo-koos of rain promised by weather forecasters — which for the most part passed us by.
I forgot it until last night’s third shake — what I’m now calling an after-shake — in hopes that this coda completes the rock ‘n roll trinity.
My husband was not here last night to tell me that the weird rattle and earth movement I felt sometime before nine p.m. was an earthquake. He was out-of-town — tending business, as he has for much of the last month. But just to let him know I was on top my earthquake game, I fired off an email to him all atwitter, which I labeled “Another Earthquake,” shouting the following text:
“Smaller. Shorter. Still Scary.”
Sort of like a tweet without the Twitter.
Last night I consoled myself with laughter by reading a blog post about the twin quakes from The Lost Ogle. This morning I consoled myself with an admiring glance of my angel watching a still world from my kitchen sink. But tonight, if another quake comes, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.
If Number Four comes — what I will, without affection call the After-After-Shock — I may have to grab my Bible like cousin Deb use to when a twister was coming. Tell myself it’s only another quake. Then wonder about the Second Coming. As I turn to Mark 13 — oh gosh, did it have to be thirteen? — and give it my full attention.
an everyday life 
Why do I have the urge to say, “Isn’t that just like a guy?” The next time you get an earthquake or bad tornados and you just want to chat with someone at 3 a.m., come over to weather underground and look for barefootontherocks blog. She’s as knowledgeable as can be, and she lives down in Marlow, near Lawton. She pays darned close attention to everything that’s going on, posts lots of links and can read radar.
We all sit around and hyperventilate together. Here’s a link to her blog last night. The back and forth starts about comment 56. We have a good time. The gal “juslivn” who is posting there has a daughter in OKC.
With all this going on, I’m still high and dry. Not a bit of rain today with this latest front. Well, not quite true. I’m getting to see some lightning now and the pavement is wet, but that’s it. Pfffffft.
What’s that old song? Que sera, sera… Whatever will be, will be. I just would prefer slightly more pleasant “whatever”.
Linda,
I spent many summer days in Marlow with an aunt and uncle who lived there in the mid-sixties — the same aunt we visited last August, who now lives in Moab — would you believe Cousin Deb (the Bible-grabber) was their oldest. Of course Deb was ten at the time — not fifty-six.
I followed the link to last night’s post and wow — I feel like a babe in toyland — all those fancy charts and tracking coordinates and I don’t know what all but that is was WAY over my head. The talking back and forth was good though…
To be fair to my husband, I recall him saying a couple of ‘un-huh’s’ to the stream of rattle consciousness coming out of my mouth — spoken not long after his citizen-kane-like-to-my-ears-rosebud response. But If our lives depended upon it, I know neither of us could recall what it was I talked about.
So you couldn’t resist adding the link to Bill Haley’s “Shake, Rattle and Roll” to Marlow’s blog last night? While I couldn’t resist snagging the song’s title and turning it into my own…
Sure am sorry about your lack of rain. The state Mesonet reports we received over an inch up to two in some parts of north OKC in the last 24 hrs. The dogs outside water bowl corroborates the charts since it was over half-full — but girl, it sure didn’t seem like an inch or two. Perhaps I’ve been rain-deprived so long I’ve forgotten what an inch looks like.
Well yes, do all you can to prepare and learn what procedures to follow, and since you’re grabbing your Bible, this thought comes to me: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, and mountains be moved into the heart of the sea.” Ps. 46: 1-2 Wishing from afar that you’re safe and sound, Janell. 😉
Arti,
Perfect Scripture. And the words ‘safe’ and ‘sound’ are good ones to tuck myself into bed with, after a long day of preparing calzones for my family.
Thank you for your words. And for bearing the Word.
Janell