I really have a love-hate relationship with all things social media.

One minute, on Skype, I'm gratefully amazed at being able to see my sister's adorable Dandie Dinmont's new ‘hair-do’ all the way from Malta; and the next, hyperventilating, held hostage, as an hours-in-the-writing sketch seems to have mysteriously vanished at the click of a button!

My relationship with it reminds of the wee rhyme my mum used to say about my sis; ‘When she was good, she was very, very good and when she was bad, she was horrid.

Nevertheless, as August approaches, so does the need to advertise our Fringe show, and social media is the way to do it!

Both the writer/director David Cosgrove and I could easily be described as Luddites; so, we’ve enlisted the help of an IT whizz kid. He promises to teach us the difference between a Twitter and a Tumblr, a Handle from a Hashtag, and a webchat from a WhatsApp! Soon though, after lots of talk of roving the internet highway, networking traffic, optimising search engines, and hyperlink navigation, I started feeling quite travel sick. When the chat u-turned to cookies, I was positively nauseous!

Our social media guru suggested that Instagram, ought to be the first app we familiarise ourselves with, as it has 400 million, active users. I'm thinking, "is that not overkill?" – it’s a Fringe show, the entire venue is the size of my hall cupboard. I think he really gets the measure of me though, when, being rubbish at all things "computery", I confess that I don’t know how to pod a cast, drop a box or down a load!

There is a line in our show where my character tells the audience she was trawling through an encyclopaedia during the 1990s. She pauses and says, "Oh and, for any young people in the audience who don’t know what an encyclopaedia is, just Google it!"

My son despairs when I, astounded, share posts on Facebook about an old lady who trains her cats to steal from her neighbours; or about a machine that magically sorts out marbles by colour, without having Googled it first. How was I to know they’re fake?!

He is often heard uttering the sigh of the war weary, whenever trying to show me the workings of the World Wide Web. I ask him to just speak to me like a four-year-old because he is the one apt to jump to conclusions, whenever he groans and claims,‘Mum –it is so obvious!’

In the end, defeated and deflated, I usually end up shouting something like, ‘look here smarty-pants, I taught you to use a spoon!’

Once, instead of ‘direct messaging’ him with, “son you’ve left your favourite casserole dish and oven gloves but I’ll drop them off tomorrow, as presumably you’re already in your jammies”, I publicly posted it on his wall for all and sundry to see.

He says himself though, it’s lucky for me, that it just wouldn’t be right to, ‘block yer maw’.

The good news is, David took to it all like a duck to water! So, we’ve hitched our wagon to the venue site, oiled the wheels and now we’re cooking with gas.

Social media guy thinks I need to 'update' my metaphors though.