Shake, Rattle, & Roll

At 4:44 a.m., Hubs woke me up.

"What's that?" he asked.

"It's an earthquake," I answered.

The quake lasted long enough and was strong enough that we knew what it was. The kids and the animals slept through it.

"It must have been a 5," Hubs said, once it was over.

"No, it wasn't that strong. A 3, maybe a 4," I guessed. This is what you do in earthquake country. If you don't have to duck-and-cover, then you can guess the strength on the Richter Scale.

And, yes, it was a 4.2 quake. This particular one felt like more of a shake, rather than a roll. None of the books fell off the stack above the bed. Nothing looks to be displaced, although in this house, it's difficult to tell. BART checked the tracks and the trains are rolling again. PG&E is checking reported power outages.

We have yet another reminder that we live, quite literally, on the edge.

And we have to find a better Early Warning System than our dog and our cats.