Around 4:30 this morning I thought my husband was having a bad dream. He was shaking really bad. Then I heard a really loud thump, and I thought he had fallen out of bed. I guess he thought the same thing about me because we were in the dark, slapping at each other trying to see if each other was okay. Our daughter, Julia, met us in the hall way. She is impossible to wake up in the mornings to get ready for school, so we knew then that it must have been an earthquake.
I went downstairs, turned on the TV, and they were just realizing that an earthquake had happened. I didn't see anything unusual. Nothing had fallen, the trees were still standing outside. Everything was good, so I went back to bed.
Later on I went into my living room to get on the computer and this is what I saw:
It looks like a picture fell off, and some things fell off the table.
There's that's better. Everything's back in order. Pictures of grandparents and great grandparents are straightened. The Starbucks Valentine coffee cup and saucer Steve gave me last year for Valentines Day is sitting pretty again beside the Joel Osteen book I still need to read and in front of my beautiful antique "Grandmother's Flower Garden" quilt.
Another one happened a little while ago. Now all of the pictures are hanging crooked. This is all a little weird and creepy to me. I think I'll go sew and try not to think about it all.