So, last night, in the midst of the COVID-19 quarantine, we had an earthquake.

At 3:33 AM.

And, get this, it was 3.3 on the Richter Scale.

It was only a few miles from our house, down in Lost Cove at 35.141°N  85.892°W.

I myself slept through it, but my wife and son felt it. “I thought it was a jet breaking the sound barrier,” she said. “I thought it was a tornado hitting the house,” he said.

Alright, 2020. We’ve hunkered down for hurricanes, and sheltered in place to flatten the curve, and I guess now we need a little earth rattling to go with it?

Getting a little tired of all this Old Testament living.