This was the headline on Monday's paper after a swarm of aftershocks hit the city on Boxing Day. I had my Mum staying over for Christmas and we were both awakened by the first shock at about 12.00 on Christmas Night. (I'd just put some of the heavy objects back up on my picture rail, just before Christmas, so it was probably my fault). A rocky day followed, with shocks all through Boxing Day, one large one at 10.30am that proved to be epicentred just up the road from my house. The Botanic Gardens recorded the greatest amount of ground acceleration of the series, at 48% of gravity. Whatever that means. Sadly, most of the quakes were under the CBD so doing more damage to buildings, largely superficial but upsetting none the less. No one was injured, thank goodness. (Isn't that a lovely phrase - "thank goodness". The Cathedral was slightly damaged; the Dean was in the middle of a sermon preaching about the stoning of St Stephen when pieces of plaster began to fall down. Powerful preaching indeed. The Anglican convent was also damaged. There was a photograph of the nuns outside, all grinning and taking photos, so I guess they don't think this is the work of a malevolent God. Or at least not their own God.
News in the paper that some of the earthquake damage assessors have been fired due to lack of sensitivity to earthquake victims. Apparently some of the assessors have been taking a hard line and trying to make claimants back off with their claims, by being insulting and aggressive. Some of these people are Australians.
Back at work today. I should go out and have a look around the Gardens, perhaps I'll do it after work. I really need some exercise after all the food at Christmas. Feeling a bit liverish, what the French term "une crise de foie", so salads, fruit and water are the order of the day. Ciao, amici.
No comments:
Post a Comment