My blog has generated a huge amount of ridicule and derision among the family.
"You and blogging just don't go together," says one of them. "You don't tweet and you're not even on Facebook," says another.
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"You leave your mobile phone at home most of the time," says a third. "And don't turn it on when you do have it."
"At least, it's very safe in my bedside drawer," I counter.
"Safe? Safe from what?" The youngest one scoffs sarcastically. "Who'd steal a five-year-old mobile that hasn't even got a built-in camera?"
The name of the blog also promotes much heated discussion. "Auld Yin Jock?" One of them whines with a face that would go with discovering month-old milk in the fridge.
I've been called many things in my time: Johnnie, Jock, Mac. My wife has never called me anything other than Janek, but that's a separate tale. For the moment, the consensus among my lot is that the most appropriate names for me are family insults and so best kept private.
It's suggested "Paw" or "Granpaw" would be better monikers for the blog. A pair of them have clearly been working on the script. "Yeah," they cry gleefully, "it would firmly locate you in the world of the Broons where you belong!"
I ignore their scornful laughter. In fact, I wish I'd thought of the idea of being some sort of digital voice of the Broons. I now regret not putting on a bunnet for the blog photo.
"So let's get this straight," the most articulate sums up. "You see yourself as a focus for the electronically terrified, the digitally bewildered and the elderly miserable?"
I consider this proposed blogging ethos for a minute or two. "I like it," I tell them. "I really like it."