Walnut Husks and Tangerine Rinds

My wife always tends to get melancholy the day before a trip somewhere.   “I really don’t want to go” she says, rather predictably.  “I know.  I know.  You never want to go.”  She considers cancelling things and questions whether the meeting or whatever she is off to is really, worth the effort.   I usually laugh.  I tell her it will be fine when you get there. 

I’m off tonight.  I travel far more frequently than her.  I have been invited to speak at event in Shanghai tomorrow.  I’ve a good idea of what I’ll talk about.  I’ll meet good people.  I’ll be paid. I’ll be back soon.  But today, sitting in the kitchen, typing away, I’m melancholy.  Like my wife, I don’t want to go. 

The counter is full of discarded things; a dozen yellow rose petals which my wife may have left on purpose, walnut husks and tangerine rinds she most certainly did not mean to leave.  It’s noon and my wife has finally made it down stairs this Sunday morning.  She has on a spacious blues piano that might be Hank Jones.  Neither of the girls have made it downstairs though I know they are up, enjoying the Sunday solitude in their rooms. 

Off to the gym then.  That will change the mood. You’d better do it soon, as you’ve a meeting at the Starbucks around the corner at two, don’t you?  And then you’ll still have time.  The flight isn’t till late.  I know the flights to Shanghai well.  This is the last one of the evening, that will get me in at midnight.  Just one night and then I’ll be back. 

Monday 11/23/18