76

This, according to my mother, is the first picture of me, but I'm hardly a newborn. Back in the days when it was taken, photographs were quite a rare thing, so it isn't surprising that I'm probably about four months old.

The reason I show it is that  I was born 76 years ago today. That seems like a whole heap of years so I should feel ancient but don't. Instead I feel I want to celebrate the years between me as I was then, a baby in tropical Dar-es-Salaam, and the me that now lives in cold northern Scotland. In particular, I want to remember the people we knew and the happy times we had with them, and the children who came along to brighten our life.

My way of celebrating is to crack open a bottle of St Emilion and enjoy a good meal. The wine mellows the memories, the meal creates the setting. So we sat and reminisced.