I was out at Loxley Colour in Port Dundas today, and they have a fantastic view over the city (these photos aren't all that great, I was in a hurry being already spectacularly late to meet Alasdair back in Byres Road, but you get the idea...):
Having eventually made it back to Byres Road I spotted this on the way to Tinderbox:
For a moment the "Leave orphanage donations here" bit suggested that I was about to come upon a Dickensian scene of small orphans being abandoned on University Avenue by heartless relatives dressed in black with white lace bonnets (even the uncles). But I think they might have meant people to drop off old clothes or money or something. Which is still a bit weird actually.
Anyway, I finally tracked down the extremely patient Alasdair who had very kindly bought me a copy of The Rights of the Reader for my birthday. I've only read a wee bit so far, but that bit contains the fantastic sentence (speaking of Anna Karenina and Vronski) "They loved each other more than pudding." Surely not.
Afterwards I applied my customary technique of Russian Roulette Haircuts. I hate having my hair cut (it's very thick and full of awkward curls and few hairdressers can deal with it successfully) in which I go into a hairdresser's at random and ask if they can cut my hair then and there. (Which rhymes, actually, but that's not the point...) Five times out of six they can't and I can escape and go on looking like Cousin It. But today was clearly the sixth time, and they did have a space free. Fortunately the hairdresser knew what he was doing and I now look much less like Cousin It...