The dark days of muon thermography

oct1As much as I love the midnight 11PM suns of northern Great Lake State summers, I also love when the dark days roll around again.

By the time I took the pic on Sunday morning, it was 8AM and my fitbit had totted up 9,885 steps. Since my daily goal is set at the default 10,000 steps, I was almost there and the sun had just reached high enough in the sky to light the trees up the Huron River. When I started my walk from the Landfill at 0-skunk-30 that morning, it was dark enough that Venus and Jupiter shone brightly in the eastern sky. The plan was that the GG would get up after I left, text me when he was ready to leave, I would text back with my current location, he would pick me up, and we would drive down to the Barton Dam trails. I got the text a block or two before I turned westward up Arborview and almost as soon as I turned onto Arborview, I saw the Ninja’s headlights heading toward me and heard its beautiful engine’s hum.

We started our river walk in the dark with Venus and Jupiter easily visible throughout most of the walk. In the end, as we were crossing the bridge back to the Ninja, the sun had taken over and I got this pic. I didn’t take extra steps to meet my 10,000 step daily “goal”. I knew I would easily get enough steps throughout the day and, indeed, my total for Sunday ended up being 24,995.

This dark morning was also beautiful but I didn’t get any pics. The planets were still spectacular and the full moon was making its descent throughout my entire walk and then I met my Mouse for an early breakfast at a new (to the west side of town) cafe. The Songbird, a lovely little place with KW-sized breakfast sandwiches (aka small). I got the Florentine – egg, goat cheese, spinach, and a tomato slice.

A minor KW-type kerfuffle began our dining experience. The kind where KW is trying to multitask at an inopportune time: 1) Fussing about the fact that the DOME LIGHT was still on in the Ninja. This was the result of an indescribable fight with the sunroof control that you do not want to know about. 2) Unthinkingly elbowing an “older” man out of the way of his position ahead of us at the counter. He seemed to think it/I was funny and I hesitate about calling him “older” because he was talking about getting his son to school and there I was with my (lovely and poised) adult daughter. But who knows?

I went outside and figgered out [sorta] how the damn dome light worked. I’ve been driving the Ninja for seven years, so go figger. And then we sat and ate our breakfast watching the sky get light and various traffic situations involving double trailer gravel trucks holding up traffic waiting to turn onto the eastbound I94 entrance.

For so many many many years, breakfast with the beach urchins was not all that fun. That’s how it goes when you have children. They are not always on the same damn program as you are on or think you are on. That’s okay, just that life isn’t always easy for either parents or children even given the best of circumstances. On our best mornings, I would read chapters of the Narnia chronicles or Indian In the Cupboard or various Roald Dahl books or whatever while they were eating (or not) but I also remember when we got to the point that they would get themselves up and ready for school (and *to* school when they could drive) while I took a walk in the dark. Now? An early morning breakfast with one or both of my lovely adult daughters is just about my favorite way to begin a morning. We certainly can’t always do that — and that’s a GOOD THING — but when one of my kids wants to have breakfast with me, I am all for it. Now if they would just read Indian In the Cupboard to me while I eat breakfast 🐸.

3 Responses to “The dark days of muon thermography”

  1. isa Says:

    Careful what you wish for!

  2. Margaret Says:

    Love having breakfast out(or coffee) with my adult daughters. Mornings weren’t always pleasant around here either when they were growing up. They are NOT early morning people whereas I am. A very lovely post today, beautifully written.

  3. eliz carter Says:

    I love your blahg.