Terremoto and more

I've been reading a novel, Company of Liars, set in the middle ages which contains, at the end, a glossary of medieval terms used in the book. Among them is "hue and cry," which is explained as follows: "The first person to discover a robbery or a body was legally obliged to raise the hue and cry--in other words, sound the alarm and rouse his neighbors. On hearing this, all able-bodied men had to start hunting down the perpetrator. Failure to comply with this law meant heavy fines for the individual and often the whole community."

There was quite a hue and cry when we experienced a terremoto night before last. Although it sounds like a monster in a Japanese horror flick, it is, in fact, an earthquake. It was our first since moving here (although we did experience a tremor on a visit), and it was a good one: 6.3 on the Richter scale. The four of us, including the dogs, were sleeping peacefully when, at 1:10 a.m., we were awakened by a bodacious noise and the violent shaking of the house. I knew immediately what it was, but Larry, easily disoriented at any time and especially so when yanked from sleep, managed to stub his toe and bang his hand against something as he first ran in circles and then to the front door, suspecting an attempted break-in. Not that I was the cool head of reason, mind you. I, too, leapt out of bed and ran a few circles, not knowing anything else to do. Just as during the real attempted break-in right after we moved in, the dogs never emerged from under the covers. They raise a great hue and cry at any and every little thing out of the ordinary during the day, but sleep apparently is sacrosanct. I'm convinced we could be murdered in our beds without so much as a peep out of them.

In any event, it lasted a purported 20 seconds, with a 4.7 aftershock of a few seconds, but it seemed more like five or ten minutes. And it was at least 30 minutes before we calmed down and ascertained that the house was still standing and that we both were alive and relatively unscathed, but for Larry's hand and toe. There appears to have been no damage, and we surely would know since it's been raining steadily for the past 48 hours. A gringo friends who has lived here for six years says it was by far the worst she has experienced.

On a happier note, the waterfall and fish pool are finally done. We have begun planting around it but will wait a while for it to settle before adding plants and fish to the water. It'll be lovely once its draped in vegetation, and the sound of the waterfall is lovely even now.

Doc, Charly, and Ramon have filled the holes in their hearts with TWO puppies, a black female and blonde male, cocker spaniels. Rafael and Mathilda are precious and have put smiles back on their faces.

Randy and Maryellen have returned. We celebrated Saturday night with a big dinner here, preceded and followed by football on t.v. My visa for China finally came through, and I've made all the necessary reservations--hotel in New Orleans, dinner in New Orleans, airport parking, airport pickup in China, etc. We'll be doing Thanksgiving here next week, after which Larry insists that I put up the Christmas tree before taking off. Charly and Maryellen are in charge of Christmas dinner inasmuch as I don't return to Boquete until Christmas eve.