4.4 outside Glen Ellen at 8:08 p.m. — forty or so miles north of here.
His nibs was downstairs worrying about the mashed potatoes and didn’t feel a thing.
I said, “Earthquake!”
He said, “When? Where?”
“Uh. Just now, honey. Didn’t you feel it?”
I was up tip tappying and felt the desk heave back and forth and waited to see if it got worse (it didn’t). If it had got worse, I would’ve found something solid to hunker down next to.
Mark, feel that one?