Colder than "Cold" in the City in which 46% of the Population Live at the Poverty Level, Or Below

I am thinking I may be finally slowly recovering from this sinusitis infection, which I've been suffering from since November 5.

I spent time outside doing various errands in two separate sessions this afternoon. As I've learned, breathing cold air now aggravates the sinus infection (I've never had a sinus infection before, so with no experience I didn't know that at first). Nevertheless, finally, I was able to do outside errands in these below freezing temperatures (no wind though; if there had been, I'd have stayed inside). No matter what I do or don't do there's a crash of feeling really sick with headache, sore throat and exhaustion around 6 PM, and this time was no difference.  However, I ate some gingered soup of rice noodles etc., and felt almost normal again. As consequence I allowed el V to make us reservations uptown, at Camaradas, for Friday night, for dinner with friends, and great music.

Working at feeling better, certainly.

Getting a haircut Saturday, only about 8 weeks late ....

In the meantime, in the waning afternoon light, picking up research books from the library, I saw this:

At taxi shift change time, on the dirty, freezing cement of  BP gas station (which is the only gas station anywhere within many blocks around here by now) a conclave of shoe-removed Muslim taxi drivers and their prayer rugs bowed toward Mecca, performing their prayers. Even if I'd had a camera I wouldn't have been able to photograph that, but I'd liked to. Their prayer mats were the most deep, brilliant colors, such a contrast with the sky turning dusty rose and pastel grey as the sun fell rapidly -- the rose and the golden highlights reflected in all the glass on the northern side of the streets, echoing the yellow taxis gassing up for the changeover.

It's at the side of that non-yellow car that the prayers are held; imagine, ice and 22 degrees ....

We are seeing more and more cultural and spiritual practices that might have been private now, blooming in whatever crack is available within a Manhattan essentially without service facilities. Yes, not even gas stations are around now; the lots sold for yet another luxury boutique hotel or restaurant.  However, the international plutocratic oligarachy slightest needs are diligently and amply tended, thank you Billionaire Mikey Bloomberg.

Example, those who need custom-designed chandeliers for their holiday dinner party table, there are about 10 places to provide the same within about 15 blocks ....