Maybe the best Carole King song of all time took on a different meaning this morning as the 5.2 earthquake shook me awake. I have experienced so many (having lived in Alaska four year) that now I just enjoy them like a theme park ride. (Envision me lying on my back in bed, arms flung straight up in the air, squealing "wheeeee!"
Now stop. Don't ever envision that again. That was disturbing.)
My first earthquake experience was in the bedroom in Anchorage . . .
wee early morning . . . we didn't know what to think about the shaking until things started falling off the dresser. "Ohhhhh, an EARTHQUAKE!
That was kind of cool!"
The "Big One" was when Kacey was around a year old. My husband was
on his way home, I was standing in our living room on the second floor
of our 3-story condo. If I remember correctly, it was a 7.9 that only lasted a few seconds. Knocked me off my feet and I sat down hard in the floor. He was at a stoplight and thought someone had rear-ended him.
Pretty powerful stuff.
This morning's quake, however, has caused me to reflect on a few, rather serious questions:
1) Should we be more physically prepared for a disaster? Water, food, emergency supplies?
2) Could we be more spiritually prepared for a disaster?
3) In light of the possibility that the house could collapse from same said disaster and rescue workers would have to come dig me out of the rubble, here's the REALLY serious question: Should I contemplate the addition of pajamas to my wardrobe or do I want to be rescued "in the buff"?
Rescue worker: "Don't worry ma'am - we'll have you out of there soon!"
Me (with extreme panic in my voice): "I don't think so! That beam crushing my skull isn't really that painful. I'm just gonna huddle here until somebody brings me a pair of black pants, a sports bra, and a big blanket. But thanks for thinking of me."
Just something I might need to think about.