Mere days after the earth shook in the first quake to hit Virginia since 1897, the East Coast is bracing for Hurricane Irene. She is due to strike my new home state of North Carolina early tomorrow morning, en route to my first home state of Maryland the next morning. New York City even has evacuation routes planned for the first earthquake to hit that far north since 1938. As a friend of mine said, "Are locusts next?" While we’re safe here in the mountains, our coastal friends are battening down the hatches as they brace for the projected 115 mile-per-hour winds.

Meanwhile, I’ve been cleaning up in the aftermath of two other storms that struck our house last week: Hurricanes Lucy and Emmy, cute but deadly. They turned our house inside out and it’s taken days to dig out from the rubble. Steve has been no help either, out of commission from their germ warfare levied against all who wandered into their paths. After finally getting everything put back in place, tomorrow I’ll need to take it all out again – at least everything in the kitchen – in preparation for Monday’s kitchen cabinet refacing. Chaos seems to be the new normal in our house.

As a former Californian who has experienced many earthquakes, the one this week was a mere tremor and, thankfully, caused minimal damage and no loss of life. Hurricane Irene, however, is a deadly threat. I pray people will be safe.