As I munched on 5 ears of sweet corn (some reflected the lack of rain and weren't filled out), the house shook for 15-20 seconds. I thought Karen and Fred, our friend the electrician, were shaking wires in the ceiling of the basement kitchen. I almost said, "It sounds like Clifford, the big red dog, down there." The house shook again a minute or two later.
I didn't think anything of it until Fred's wife called to say there was an earthquake in DC or somewhere east of here. She'd seen something on television, I guess. Inquiries began coming in from around the world, Kansas first.
"I didn't know you had any friends," says Virginia, "until a government action brings them out."
What do you mean?
"Well, you said you didn't give it any thought," says Virginia, "until someone, probably a government agency, reported an earthquake. Then you assumed it was an earthquake."
Heck, she's right, sort of. Maybe it wasn't an earthquake, just a sympathetic vibration imagined by a few hundred thousand or million people. After all, one of our nieces in Ohio didn't feel it, while people around her did. The air may just have been full of brain farts, nothing new.
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I heard later that it was in fact not an earthquake they felt in DC. It was our forefathers turning over in their graves
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