Occaisionally I get stray phone messages. I suppose we all do from tiime to time, and there was a time you always got double glazing companies trying to sell you more replacement windows.

Sometimes you get strange characters phoning for strange reasons. I remember one chap called me and I made the mistake of assuming it one of my mates (he used the same name). He then proceeded to ask where his hammer was. Hammer? What hammer? He then got irate because I'd 'lost' his hammer. Sorry mate, wrong number. *click*

On the other hand, stray calls can be of a personal nature, like the young lady who valiantly tried to get a date by telling me I'd met her at a party. Which party? I'd remember. No, I didn't think she could tell me when and where it was, something I find a little strange considering she was so keen to go out with me. Call me suspicious, but instinct tells me to be wary of this sort of thing.

The reason I discuss this subject is that I've received a phone message from a 'workman' who identified himself by his first name (as if that meant anything to me) claiming he needed access to my home to check for water leaks. His Liverpool accent didn't nothing to assuage my doubts. "Call me on this number" the message ended. Except it comes up as a '(No Number)' entry.

That's happened before. Back when my outrageously lowered and body kitted Eunos Cabriolet still worked, I'd parked it in a well to do area at the suggestion of the Police and got a phone call from a citizen who was breathlessly keen to get me to drive it somewhere else.

"I've scratched the paint on my car trying to get around it into my drive" She claimed. As it happened, I did move the car half an hour later, but she was mysteriously absent when I did. Something didn't quite sound right that day, and today, I got the same feeling. But I'll check with the letting agent anyway and find out whether they know who this 'workman' is. Just in case my neighbours are drowning.

Pic of the Day

Yes, I was out and about yesterday. Heavy showers and hot sunshine. A very average hiking experience then, and no strange phone calls to disturb the rural isolation. A pair of hawks circled the woods to the right of the picture. Large ones, making shrill cries. Aaah... Young love....

Phone Call of the Week

There's a telephone facility for jobseekers that I sometimes use. You sort of get to know the various characters employed by the call centre, and only one of them sounds like they live in Delhi. Unfortunately one of them is not entirely interested in his job. He rushes through the requisite phrases in a bored 'Oh gawd not another caller' voice and when he locates a vacancy for you, he reads through the description so fast you get the impression he doesn't care whether you write any of that stuff down or not.

Sorry, what was that email address again?

Could you spell that please?

Sorry, was that 'm' or 'n'?

Sorry I called.