I've a big birthday coming up next month and it doesn't have a 6 anywhere near it.

I'm clueless as to how that happened! But I have a friend coming to my party who can vouch for the fact that she's known me for 50+ years, and a sis who's known me for a great deal longer. You can't argue with the maths. The sums really do add up!

Big numbers can be a little scary.

My last big party, in the 70s, was my 21st when I celebrated it in Ma Cameron's in Aberdeen with a mix of family, school friends and Art School classmates. Over 50 people.

On the day, my sis and me bought 40 French sticks, hoicked out the soft bready insides and stuffed them with various fillings, then cut them into generous navvie hunks. But it didn't smack of anything biblical - more it was a practical way of soaking up all the alcohol that, no doubt, would be consumed that evening!

My sis had driven 240 miles with the massive birthday cake from Gussie Simpson, a neighbour and town baker, whom I'd worked for after school and on Saturdays.

I remember my first Saturday, when Gussie stood behind me - apron mucky with dough, hands full of flour and fag hanging out the corner of his mouth - while I bagged up a large order for a big woman. I had to rely on a mixture of mental maths and a spare paper bag on which I had to tally up the total. There were no calculators or barcodes or any of that automatic malarkey. I just had to decide on an amount, ring it up on the till and count back the woman's change into her hand.

Gussie was also doing mental maths faster than me, 'cos he had being doing it for years more than me, and was old enough to be my uncle. So, to err on the safe side, I had added on an extra shilling. Transaction completed, and woman out the door, Gussie smirked and remarked, 'Good. Better over than under!' He was, and felt he would remain, a successful baker.

So my cake arrived safely from Thurso to Aberdeen. But where to put it? I gambled on pushing 2 spare folding tables together and set the wonderful iced cake in the middle. There it sat magnificently in full view, until an enthusiastic dancer knocked one of the tables and it fell.

There followed a shocked silence.

But the soft icing just needed a bit of remodelling. And I was an art student, after all! The cake itself remained solid. Gussie's fruit cakes could be relied on for that quality.

Other things that happened were: a temporary power outage, after which I suggested an 8-some reel to get the party back on track; and streaking. 4 people decided it would be fun to streak down Union Street. The taxi drivers, parked up on Little Belmont Street, would have been faintly amused. A brave move. It was March after all. Not the best month to be running around naked. Crazy art students!

I also remember paying the landlord and him complaining that there were too many beer drinkers, and so he didn't make as much as he thought he would. But, I thought, at least the vast majority weren't drinking fruit juice!

It didn't dampen my spirits. It had been a memorable party. Epic.

I've no idea how this next one will pan out. The only things I'm certain of are that we will be having Prosecco Cocktails and sausage rolls; and that a diverse group of my friends, who will meet for the first time, will be there. I can't wait!

I don't think I can bank on any streaking though. 50 years on, most of us oldies will, no doubt, prefer to keep our thermals on. It will be March after all!

; )