Lassie

It was just after 7:00 a.m. Wednesday, March 18. We were in our second week of “social distancing” to avoid getting or sharing the COVID-19 virus, and no one was in a hurry to start the day. I’ve never been good at sleeping in, so I was toasting bread, poaching eggs and heating water for hot chocolate. Suddenly the floor began to shift; first shaking quickly back and forth like a pan of Jiffy Pop, then heaving up and down like a small boat on choppy seas. At first, John thought I must be trying to shake him out of bed. It was a 5.7 magnitude earthquake, the strongest in the Salt Lake valley since the pioneers’ arrival. Heather slept through it, but during one of the more significant aftershocks she poked her head out of her room and said, “Mom, whatchu doing?” I’m pretty sure it means something that they both immediately blamed me. Something not good.