Prelude to the Earthquakes

A peaceful morning rural scene before my son and I left for Christchurch to celebrate an early Christmas dinner before my granddaughter leaves for Australia. My daughter, FirehorseMia , put on a lovely meal, and the four of us had fun opening presents.

When the first earthquake struck we could hardly believe it. There have been so few lately. Suddenly the house was shaken violently from side to side. The noise was dreadful. Cupboard doors flew open and things were thrown out. Books and pictures were hurled from shelves out on the floor. We had hardly gathered ourselves when another one struck. Fortunately only one cup was broken and some oil was spilt. My daughter has learned how to store things to keep them safe.

Smaller tremors continued until a bit over an hour later another big quake struck. This one was sharp and I feared the ceiling would fall. I had a dreadful thought that the three people I love most in the world were in this room. My granddaughter was thrown into a corner where she hit her shoulder on a protruding door fitting, causing a bruising pain. Apart from that it was just a case of picking things up again.

Between the quakes there was a gentle rocking, like being in a boat on a soft swell. Sometimes I thought that I imagined it, but water in a bottle on the table showed that I had not.

Christchurch does not need this. People, children, who were beginning to heal have been traumatised again. And when will it end? What a frightening prospect for Christmas. December the 23rd will be another date that is burned into people's memories.