At about two yesterday, I was in the bathroom, and when the door started to rattle, I thought one of the cats was upset and jumping into it. Then I started to think they would’ve had to truly being going crazy to make the whole room shake. When I stepped out into the hall and saw the bookshelves rattling I finally realized there was an earthquake going on. Since Virginia isn’t prone to earthquakes and there were no walls or windows or anything cracking open I actually assumed it was a mild one, but it’s still really freaky for your house to start shaking unexpectedly like that, especially if you’ve never experienced it before. Mom was just saying we needed to get out of the house when the shaking stopped, over before we could finish fully reacting to it. Or remember a doorframe actually would’ve been safer, but none of us were injured anyway. We went outside anyway, exchanged a few confused looks and words with our neighbors, then went back in.
Mom, who was in the living room, describes the experience as a line of shaking going through the house, and four bookshelves on that line, three in the living room and one in my parents’ bedroom, toppled forward, resulting in the floor of half the living room being filled to knee-level with fallen books. Two old volumes were ripped apart in the process, casualties of the earthquake. We only just now finished putting everything back into place. Fortunately the parts of the house outside the line were mostly untouched.
So now the only lingering after-effect is the cats. It took us some time to find them afterwards, because they’d both gone into hiding. Even after they emerged from their initial hiding places, as soon as they got into my room they both ran under my bed and many more hours would not leave my room. Nearly 24 hours later, they’re starting to walk around more normally, but are still skittish.
Apparently we may or may not get hit by the hurricane this weekend, but hey, we’ve dealt with those before.