Monday, September 23, 2024

REAL MEN DON'T USE EMOJI.

 

 

TOM. It’s 3.00 pm and I’ve just realised it’s my birthday 71 years old and don’t feel a day over eighty. I dare not look at my emails or Facebook page for fear of what I might find. Why am I suddenly receiving a deluge of messages adorned with those ridiculous yellow sun faced emoji? I don’t know what half of them mean, and on my mobile phone they are way too small to make out anything, other than most of them are yellow and round. The red heart I suppose is obvious, but there’s another thing that looks like a pair of garden shears. It’s used most frequently by a friend who like me is a keen gardener, so maybe she means happy gardening.  I’m getting most of them from women friends, sometimes without a single word of explanation, and Tottie is one of the worst offenders. You would have thought that her being a journalist would mean she would be able to find the correct words to explain herself rather than resorting to a symbolic cartoon language that means nothing to me. Have our lives become so hectic that we no longer have time to put down in words what we mean? Will our ability to express ourselves in the written form become like the hand written letter, a thing of the past? I’ve seen children marvel at the speed with which I write, stopping only to dip the pen back in the ink. The hand eye coordination is extra ordinary, but now I marvel at the dexterity of young people’s thumbs on their smartphone keypad, my own being way to big and arthritic to achieve such accuracy. It gives me great pleasure to see a page full of my handwriting and know that a computer could not understand a word of it. Our daily lives seem full of passwords and security codes. Whatever happen to our beautiful unique signature?

I can at least count my blessing in that Tottie also seems to have forgotten my birthday, but then again why should she remember. We have at last seen the sun with clear skies for the past few days. So good to be able to put the washing out and forget it. Apart from Tottie I’ve had two visitors this week to the garden. The first was a heron that I surprised down in the vegetable garden. I can’t think what it was doing there other than enjoying a bit of shelter behind the beech hedge. As it struggled to make a vertical take-off I was reminded just how large herons are when seen at close quarters. The second visitor was a rabbit that hopped across the gravel in the front of the house and disappeared into the bushes. I’ve seen it again, but it is the first I’ve seen in five years since the dreaded miximatosis was released. I have mixed feelings about their return. A rabbit-free period has meant tree planting has been simple with no guards needed, but today I discovered an ornamental rowan tree I’d grown from seed had been neatly nipped off at ground level. If they are back then I would prefer that they stay down on the machair and do not become regular visitors to my garden. It’s looking like meat might be back on the menu. As for visitors to the studio I don’t expect any more as I’ve put the sign back in the shed, and my mind is taken up with preparing to leave in mid-October. I’ve purchased a small bag with wheels and extending handle that will be my walk on cabin luggage. There will be no other, and in it I hope to pack as much making materials as possible, a change of clothes, slippers, toothbrush and all important medication. I’ve learnt from previous trips to Australia that clothing is not a high priority. I see people struggling with massive suitcases and feel sure that half the stuff they’ve packed will return unused. I somehow can’t see Tottie as a minimalist when it comes to clothes. I don’t think I’ve seen her in the same outfit twice this summer. Having enough variety of embroidery wool is all important to me, and this time I’ve put in a few scraps of blankets to continue my harbour views. I also put a couple of bits of mattress ticking to serve as the background for some wacky birds.



 The drawing of these was achieved with the aid of five years old Eppie, who had the simple task of drawing a squiggle that would start and end in the same place. I then had to turn it into a bird. It surprised me as I rotated the page as to just how little additions were required to achieve this. Both the Toucan and peacock were fine examples and will now go on to become ticking samplers.. 

 TOTTIE. Tom has had a bad week and although he didn’t want to talk about it, it didn’t take long before the full story came out. He’d received details by email to pay back his friend in Australia for his flight to WA. The email was hacked, the details changed and the money subsequently and innocently transferred to a third party. It took the best part of a morning in the bank to sort it out and they admitted it was a very sophisticated scam, but Bank of Scotland came up trumps and the money was refunded. I couldn’t therefore make out why he was still so upset, surely getting the money back was something to be celebrated. He explained that it wasn’t about the money, and that it was the fact that someone had intercepted his emails. He said through tears that it felt like a physical violation far worse than any robbery. I think emails will now be a thing of the past for Tom. Sadly this sort of hazard will continue into the foreseeable future and is only set to get worse with the intervention of AI. I have however discovered that the friend he will be staying with is also a Nadin like me. I wonder why Tom didn’t tell me that earlier when I was delving into my family tree. I must do some more digging, but work keeps getting in the way. The boss caught me researching the family name on line, and followed it up with a little lecture entitled “in your own time Tottie”. I almost forgot it’s his birthday, but I’m not even sure if I should send him a cheery message acknowledging the day, since I know he doesn’t do birthdays. Oh, I can’t just ignore it now I’ve remembered. A few big smiley face should do it.😄😊😀👄

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