Telepiphany

This Lumia phone of mine, which I really like, has been back to the repair shop, wherein lies a story of coincidence whereby, it having been away for a while, I called into the Telstra shop to check on its progress, and they told me that it had been dispatched back to the shop whereupon a little head pops out of the back saying "I just opened the mail, is this your phone?" which I was quite delighted about.

The reason it had gone back was because the headset detection had started to fail, so the phone would decide it wasn't connected, randomly, making listening to music etc quite painful (or arguably more pleasant if you don't like the rubbish I play).

Problem is, it's started to go tits up again, and so this morning I was trying out a different headset to check it out a bit further. I had to fix the headset that's my the piano, and when I popped it on my bonce, Lyra took something of an interest. 

She demanded it from me, popping the headset on, and when her head filled with music her little eyes lit up and a smile of epiphanous fascination and amazement spread across her face like silk sliding across a newly-made bed. 

Listening to the strains of Dr. Phibes she accidentally (on purpose?) phoned Nicole and failed to leave her a message that Telstra's computers could turn into a text message.

She did not want to give up that phone, but that was OK because if I listened closely I could just hear that the headphones were still working, having passed the five minutes or so the other ones normally stop. 

And so, not wishing to tempt fate, I diagnose: the headphones, not the phone.