A moonlit bum

This summer has turned me into a lazy bum. A lazy good-for-nothing bum, who runs (albeit slowly) when she sees motivation headed her way.

Take, for example, my plans for a moonlit kayak paddle this week, to enjoy the slightly cooler temperatures and the last few days of freedom before school begins.

I loaded the kayak. Don't tell Rudy the Red-nosed kayak that I took this old thing. He'll get his feeling hurt. But the Pelican is easier to load and haul. Refer back to explanation of laziness above.

And then I went inside to read for a while, till it got dark. I fell asleep reading, and when I woke up, it was way late. Too late to drive out to the lake. Refer to explanation of laziness above.

So I decided to finish the book. Which meant that it was even later, and consequently, I overslept the next morning, missing out on the opportunity for a beautiful sunrise paddle. Refer to....

So last night, I decided that, by golly, I was going out, no matter what. And then the sky started to look like this:

And the radar started to look like this:

As Sue Sylvester says, let me break that down for you.  I was headed to Lake Thunderbird. Notice the cloud directly over the lake.

Cloud cover means no moonbeams. No moon means no moonlight for paddling. No paddling means I'm cranky. This is not a laziness issue, but rather an indication that the weather gods hate me.


I finally decided that I would at least drive out to the lake, even if meant just watching lighttening all night (refer back to Perseids watching night.)  I knew that with a waning 95% full gibbous moon it should be decent light if the clouds clear. I knew this because I have celestial connections. And because I have moonphases on speed dial.

And at 9:40 p.m. last night, I was no longer a lazy bum, because my launch looked like this:

And it was well with my soul.