London, and much of the UK was shook by an earthquake last night. A mighty 5.3 magnitude. (Stop giggling Californians.)
This is about as big as it gets in the UK - the largest in nearly 25 years.
Fortunately, there is only one reported injury – a broken pelvis in South Yorkshire.
Of course, the Tate Modern pre-empted this long ago.
I was sound asleep thanks to plenty of wine at a bloggers meet-up. But did the earth move for any less sedated readers?
According to Mrs Gee it was the talk of the playground at Cromer Junior School this morning. (I live in Cromer, in Norfolk, not so far from the epicenter). Several of our neighbours felt the quake, which happened at around 1 a.m. My wife woke up at about 1.08, wondered why, and went back to sleep. I slept through the whole thing and knew nothing of it until Mrs Gee emailed me at work during the morning. Perhaps significantly, one of our four chickens laid an egg the day before, something they haven’t done for months. Signs and Portents, I reckon.
I was in bed watching “Star Wars Episode II”, as you do, and the bed shook around 1am. I called “quake” to my flatmate (half jonking) and she shouted “I know” and we both left it there. The Clone Army was just gearing up for the main battle, but I don’t know what her excuse was.