9th January. Telephone Survey.

An unusual thing happened today, somebody used a phone box; I hasten to add, to make a phone call, not as a toilet or to give birth in.

I was on the roof of number 25 Post War Crescent when a fairly stooped wife in a head scarf came ambling along over the road. She struggled in the wind with the heavyweight red painted door finally entering the archaic example of telecommunications.

It's likely that she was representative of todays public telephone user.

How thankful the residents of Numbers 24 and 26 must be now that teenagers don't have to spend most of the evening hanging around outside constantly phoning the other box in the village for an essential minute by minute update of what's happening 250 yards away.

Later in the afternoon the survey sample was increased from one to two when an identical woman in a headscarf made another half hour call.