(no subject)
So who's hanging about in Tasmania? Not my father. I spoke to him in New Zealand only a couple of hours ago, and he will now be fast asleep. Not my mother, who hates flying. Not my lovely sister, who has to be in the UK this evening to fix my email crisis. And yet, I just got a missed call from the lovely island of Tristan Dacuna. According to BT and a little on line detective work. I'm so intruiged, but can't bring myself to call back because I don't want to spend £30 on a short phone call to find out it was a wrong number. Ho hum.