We Discussed Thirty

It’s nasty this morning.  What’s wrong with Beijing?  The pollution is back.  You can’t miss it.  It becomes apparent right before dawn that it’s going to be foul outside.  I remember a few years back the civic propaganda machine was touting its having conquered this problem.  One suspects, without any evidence, that during periods of economic softening such as the situation we now have with the trade war, whatever restrictions had been put in place a few months back to allow for the least polluted National Holiday as possible, have been removed and all the factories within a hundred miles of the capital are churning away at full production.  What else explains this murk?

I have too much laundry for one load.  Apparently, this small washing machine starts to hop around the apartment like R2D2 and parade across the kitchen if you load it up with too many clothes.  I can hear it humming in the other room, not moving.  I’ll do this second load later.  We had dumplings last night at the mall nearby and while they were tasty at the time they don’t seem to have digested very well.  I feel bloated. 

Today is my daughter-in-law’s birthday.  She is turning thirty.  I put the message out to the family wechat threads.  Last night, over dumplings we discussed thirty.  Every age seems poignant at the time and wistful and innocent looking back on.  I wasn’t married yet at thirty.  Didn’t know if I would be.  I spent the dinner with my mom at some seafood place in Boston and remember telling her I felt lonely and wondered if I’d ever find anyone.  A few months later I was engaged. 

I ask my stepson what the plan is for dinner.  He rolls his eyes and says he doesn’t know.  His wife has headed out for a walk.  They’ve obviously had a disagreement.  He suddenly reminds me of his mom and I prod him to make sure he makes something nice happen for her today.  He rolls his eyes again and says “I tried.”  “Try harder.” I intone. 

Sunday 12/08/19