This afternoon when I returned home from a very lengthy (four and one-quarter hours!) Town Deliberative Session--a format which, a few years back, supplanted our traditional New England Town Meeting--and found a message from my husband on the answerphone. (The Town Moderator doesn't permit the receiving of cellphone calls during the session. Unless you happen to be the Police Chief or the Fire Chief. Which I'm not.)
He was reporting his safe return from Shannon Airport to Boston's Logan. But--why am I not surprised?--he discovered on landing that his US cellphone battery was dead. Meaning he had to use a payphone and his phone calling card.
At least there was some good phone karma at work, too. Our home answerphone only records messages when it feels like it. It has a dodgy chip. Fortunately, while I was away from home, it did feel like it. But that won't stop us replacing it in the very near future!