It gives me great pleasure to kick off this week with some very special birthday wishes - albeit belated.
That’s because Granny Stocks, known to all and sundry as GG, passed the landmark of all landmarks over the weekend.
So, I’m showing no shame at all in saluting (possibly) Over Wyre’s newest centenarian.
That’s partly because I missed the big day itself – I was over in Sheffield talking about football on the wireless (and writing about it, the proof of which you can find towards the back end of this newspaper).
But I’ll take this opportunity to raise a metaphorical glass to the grand old lady of the Stocks clan who has always been around when it’s mattered.
It was GG (just plain old Gran in those days) who’d sort my breakfast every morning and get me on the bus to school.
And it was GG who’d be there to pick me up every night and ply me with mint humbugs and beefy Monster Munch until The Old Folks arrived to take over.
Her tiny bungalow was a treasure trove to treats and her commitment to the school sports day was unerring – it was GG cheering as I cheated in the sack race and came dead last in the egg and spoon.
It’s not only yours truly who made the most of her generosity. GG was helping serve up meals on wheels well into retirement – trekking into the village once a week to ensure a whole host of needy pensioners (many younger than her) were happily fed.
In fact so in awe of Great Gran am I, I’ve even named my youngest daughter after her (well, a middle name... that still counts). And, I don’t think anybody should doubt what an achievement it is to reach the grand old age of 100.
I’d love to know what the secret of a healthy long life is – I suspect it’s got something to do with the bottle of stout that’s forever kept in her fridge. I doubt I’ll make such a spectacular or long lasting mark. So here’s to you Gran, happy birthday, 100 years young.