The part only you see.
This is the other half of My World — the part only you see. Everything your mum or dad meets on screen is set up from here, by you.
Everything else is behind your PIN — including the way out. Normal Windows is always there when you want it.
Past the PIN is the part only you see: change settings, read the guide, check email waiting to be approved, or leave for Windows.
One page for the lot: their details, the home screen, family and calls, email, phrases, photos, radio, the internet list, and Show me how if you’d rather be walked through it.
It starts by asking about them, not about settings: after a stroke, difficulty with words, memory problems, tires easily, low vision. Tick what fits and it suggests the rest — ideally sitting with them.
Family and calls: add a person, put their face on the button, and choose who the Help button rings.
And the honest version of scam protection: only approved people reach them, everything else is held for you to check — so they never have to judge a strange message. A new doctor? Allow the surgery’s domain.
Their phrases — the greetings, chat lines and sign-offs the Email screen offers. Swap in the words they actually use.
Photos: the folder, how long each picture stays — and the setting that lets family email a photo straight into the slideshow.
Radio stations and websites are lists you control — add, remove, reorder. Nothing appears on their screen that you didn’t put there.
And the guide is inside the app, not just in the box — including the Help button and what it cannot do.
And this is the whole idea in one screen: you set it up for them. Turn off anything they won’t need — fewer buttons is calmer — and put a real face on a button instead of a symbol.
Set up once, together. Changed in five minutes, whenever things change.
And that’s your side of it — an afternoon at the start, ideally sitting together, then a few minutes whenever things change. They never see any of this. They see the buttons you chose, and nothing else.