THREE weeks ago he wouldn’t accept a penny less than £14.95 for a shirt that appeared to have been made from two Union flags. He would be losing money if he offered any reduction.

I resisted the temptation. I’ve a wardrobe bulging with shirts, many still in their wrappers.

A week ago this ever-cheerful Banbury market trader told me I could, as a special favour, have one for £10 because I was his first customer of the day. I didn’t fall for his line; I‘d heard it all before from his fellow countrymen in India.

Yesterday the shirts were nowhere to be seen. Neither were the buntings and St George’s cross flags that had dominated his stall for weeks. Along with the rest of the country, patriotism had been shelved to avoid adding to the embarrassment inflicted by the Germans.

“Have you any of those Union flag shirts?” I asked.

“They’re back in the warehouse. I’ll bring them out in two years for our European Championship run,” he said.

That’s what I call optimism.

IT was generally accepted that the west door of the University Church of St Mary the Virgin in High Street had been looking tatty of late. Hardly a thing of beauty to the eye of anyone wandering along the Turl.

Not any more. Magnificent new oak doors and a meticulously carved frame to fit an irregular aperture have been made and fitted by Graham Hooper and his team of joiners from the splendidly named University Estates Directorate.

As one who resists using workman’s tools for everybody’s sake and safety, I marvel at their skill.

A FEW months ago I accepted an invitation to open a summer fete in Carterton. The organisers had been unsuccessful in signing up every mother’s favourite son, Wesley Smith, to do the honours.

I didn’t mind being second choice – honest. On the contrary, I was delighted to be asked. It also gave me the opportunity to visit that west Oxfordshire town, something I blushingly admit to never having done before. Heaven knows the enthusiasm of former mayor and veteran councillor Joe Walcott should have whetted my curiosity long ago.

There were cheerful greetings from shoppers and shopkeepers alike. Smiles were the order of the day.

The fete was at The Homestead, an imposing new three-storey building housing a Methodist home for 68 elderly residents. There was something for everyone. In addition, staff members Karen and Trish had persuaded dozens of people to give lots of things to sell, or to share in the profits from their specialist stalls. What’s more, the refreshments were first class. Any calorie-controlled snack was out of the question when faced with the array of cakes.

It was a smashing day and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Eat your heart out, Wesley!