And the sky has burnt to that perfect robins-egg blue. Not a cloud in the sky; and the crazy Russians next door are having a barbecue for the fifth night running (I'm assuming they had one on Saturday, too -- I was out). The sun has caught in a window across the street and I'm typing washed in golden night.

I was feeling a bit low after the excitements of entertaining and smashing swans and drinking retsina so after attempting (futiley) to return some sunglasses I wandered off to find if there's solace for a hungover heart in Cowley Shopping Centre.

Turned out the view from the top of the multistory carpark was awesome, and that someone had just donated their torchsong collection to the British Heart Foundation shop, so, one £15 shopping spree later, I was home, listening to Shirley Bassey, Petula Clarke, Lisa Minelli ...

Looks like Shirley Bassey's The Lady is a Tramp isn't the one I love so much, after all. If it's the one from the Disney film I'm going to be so embarassed.