I’ve been back on my old stomping ground LA and it’s been shaking. We had a 5.1 earthquake here the other night. Robbie and I were cued to watch Inside Llewyn Davis when he asked if I was moving the couch. Nope. It was the start of a swelling, swaying quake–like sloshing around on a cruise ship in a Baltic storm, which I recall being almost as little fun. Throwing up versus shitting your pants.
We ran down the hallway to where the baby was sleeping and stood in the doorframe. As usual, I was expecting the big one. Imagining everything awful. Harry started to cry. Robbie told me to breathe. Then it all stopped. I freaked out about the fragility of life for a second and ate my TV dinner. Lovely film, that new Cohen one.
LA– fun times! Good thing I mostly esteem it worth enduring earthquakes for. I’ve been basking in the sun with Harry and all my old pals. Simply splendid. Sorry, I know I’m bragging but I’ve been living alone with child in the Quebec countryside all shitty freezing winter. Different strokes. Life is leagues easier without putting on all that down and wool before leaving the house. Have we made a dire miscalculation moving back east? Alas, time will tell.
I’m currently attempting blogging again after a lot of mommying and very little writing. It’s pretty crazy that I was doing final edits on Prude last April. Sprinting around after a toddler this one! Wish me luck aspiring to do it all and accomplishing one quarter.
Peace love and prayers against natural disasters. A tout!