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Greenwich Street Garbage WIP 1/2 sheet 140 lb Arches Cold Press

Where does the time go?  This is a work in progress painting of the garbage piling up on Greenwich Street after one of the blizzards last winter.  Not this winter.  This winter we had spring.  Not that I’m complaining.  I’m sure I will start complaining this summer when it’s hotter than the fires of Hades and I’m in the subway.  But that’s for another post.

I would like to discuss living outside of NYC.  The husband is making noises along those lines.  And I am sad to report that my dog-walking buddy Charlie and his wife Liz are moving to Maine.   Far, far up in Maine.  I keep asking “what will you do up there?”   I don’t get a straight answer. They don’t seem to have any worries.  Of course I have plenty.

Did you know there are 8.3 million people in NYC and only 1.3 million in the whole state of Maine.   There are only 303 square miles in the NYC (all 5 boroughs!), compared to 35,000 square miles in the state of Maine.   That’s plenty of space for the boogy man or the ax murderer to hide.  And what about moose and bears? I’m torn between being bombarded with “interaction fatigue” from so many people in NYC and not liking wide open spaces with no one around.

I remember one time when the husband and I stayed at my sister’s house in Putnam County which is about 1 & 1/2 hours from my apartment.  I consider that the country, though I’m sure anyone else would consider it a suburb.  Anyway,  the Husband and I went to bed and  had the windows open.   It was a lovely cool night.  Until the noise started.  The husband was asleep as soon as his head it the pillow, but I was kept awake by all these spooky sounds.   Frogs, crickets, ax murderers, who knows.  It was loud.  I nudged the Husband and asked him “what’s that noise?”  No answer.  I nudged him again…”What Is That Noise?”   Snore.  A third time “Matt, what is that noise?”   Annoyed he finally turned over, looked at me and yelled “IT’S NAYCHA”.

I do not like “Naycha.”

Maybe Charlie is a secret doomsday prepper and that’s why he’s moving to Maine?   I wonder if he’s waiting for the end of the world as predicted by the Mayans or the super Yellowstone volcano to finally blow?   I’m staying here. Garbage doesn’t scare me as much as Naycha.


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