Return of the woollies

Feels like an awful long time since last I sat at this computer. Twig the monster kit has made it her mission in life to prevent me working on the Mac as we have to keep the keyboard and mouse hidden and a jumper over the screen. Why? 'Cause the little darling can 'type' and wakes me up with the tapping of paws on keys and the sound of the Mac waking time after time at night if preventative measures are not taken. Maybe, just maybe, this is why Mr Jobs invented the tablet computer...

Just talking, or listening, computers with my mother. She is determined to learn to use one, thinks it will be useful, but in a deft doublethink move also considers them to be the enemies of civilisation and destroyers of moral values and human interaction. Okay, she has a point on the last one, but only a minor score. Digital cameras fall into the same (weird) category; she has about five and uses them all the time but despises anyone else who uses one in preference to 'real' film and lord help you if you dare to manipulate an image in the name of creativity... Reminding her that in years gone by she was the master of the 'fiddle' as it was fondly known - splicing pictures together, double exposures, shooting model tabletop sets - is met with distain. This is something entirely different and blatantly evil. I have been trying to get her to update to broadband so she can actually send emails rather than sit looking at messages and egg timers for hours on end, but to no avail. First it was because men would have to come into the house to lay cables, meaning disruption and unwelcome cleaning of the spare room. Next it was rejected on cost basis and complicated installment (wireless); I am ready to throw in the towel.

Last week I tried the new discovery; dongles which plug into your USB port and provide internet access via 'mobile phone' technology. Tonight I was told that this was apparently 'not reliable' and not suitable for her needs anyway; pointing out that the zillion users of iphones, Blackberries, Kindles, et al might have had a few words by now if the devices didn't actually work fell on deaf ears. Unsurprisingly. There is little more annoying than knowing the answer to a problem and being resolutely refused the right to put it into practice.

Did some great painting this morning in my favourite time slot; 6-9am. Stu needed a run in for his ludicrously early start (to finish around 11pm, good old catering) so I returned and whacked straight into the face on my "Haven" picture. I think it is a combination of mind clear from accumulated worries, light fresh and clean, cats sleepy, best cup of tea of the day; I always find it my most productive timeslot by far.

Went for my second haircut of the year after that; I love the fact that my hairdresser, if left unchecked, always cuts just a little too short. This means of course that the haircut lasts just a little longer before I begin to look like the Wild Woman of Wongo; a photo from last week was the trigger for the operation as I could barely see my face for the frizz. Potentially not a bad thing, but drying time in the morning was also reaching unacceptable lengths, which is not very me. Blast hair, slap on slap, out door is more my style. Speaking of which I have realised that one of the reasons I enjoy the onset of autumn is the excuse to return to my natural uniform of jumpers, jeans and scarves. Poetically, I can claim that this is my Scandinavian heritage showing itself and that my apalling dress sense in summer is a byproduct of this fact. Less poetically it is easier, removes the need for constant waxing and means that ironing is no longer a daily occupation. Weirdly I have far less clothes for the winter months, which may also play a part; take away the element of choice and the whole shebang is far less stressful and time consuming. No real point in trying out new combinations of jeans, jumpers and scarves before going out; the most adventurous I need to be is perhaps a woolly hat to finish the look. On Arran last year I bought a fine woolly helmet in April when it was still chilly and commented to the shop lady that it was probably a bit late in the season to be making such a purchase. She just looked at me funny and laughed in a way that was to become all too familiar in the following months. Lets just say the words "Twin Peaks" and leave it at that.

It did give me a few monumental fashion moments over the summer as I experimented liberally with the idea of dresses, leggings and woolly hats, safe in the knowledge that everyone else on the island was on holiday and couldn't have given two hoots or were not on holiday, therefore resident, therefore... I'll say no more.

Determined to leave the heating alone until absolutely necessary this year, so scarf in the house is the way to go for now, and - soon - retire to bed early with a good book and a pile of cats.