The flat is still tipsville, despite my feeble efforts. Everything seems to have reached the point of shabbiness where it's no longer comfortably boho, just grim and gruesomely shabby.
On the 'positive' side, it seems a little bit fresher, if still too hot for me. (I start pumping out flying sweat drops at about 20C)
I think there may be a kestrel living on my tower block again. There's some sort of weird bird that emits uncanny cries, but I haven't got a good look at it so far.