The new year has come with a theme in our house: my wife’s imminent milestone birthday.

I am obviously too much of a gentleman to reveal a lady’s age, but if I tell you she was born when Cliff Richard was number one with Summer Holiday, you can probably do the maths.

Don’t hold your breath waiting for an invitation to a party, though, because we have decided to mark the auspicious occasion by going on holiday and forgetting about it.

She says it is frankly not something she really wants to celebrate, and rather than dwelling on it, she is trying to convince herself that ladies of a certain age are no longer as old as we once thought they were… if you see what I mean.

Let me explain: if you turn the clock back only a few decades, even ladies in their sixties seemed old, but in the 21st century they are not necessarily so.

A couple of years ago we came across a video of my wife’s late mother, filmed when she was a little older than my wife is now.

Yet, in comparison, she was a white-haired old lady, wearing an old lady’s clothes and old-fashioned slippers. 

People just seemed to look and act older in those days, and my wife says she isn’t prepared to be an old lady just yet. 

And when I say she doesn’t seem like an old lady to me, either, it’s not just to win brownie points.

All this was put in perspective, the other day.

As I am wont to do, I was flicking through some old copies of this paper from 1913, when I came across the story of an unfortunate young man called Oliver Hawkins, who was struck by lightning while riding his bike down Crombey Street.

It must have been quite a shock for poor Oliver, but also for a Mrs Chesterman, who was walking along on the pavement at the time, and was mowed down by the out-of-control bike.

Hawkins was temporarily blinded and knocked unconscious, while Mrs Chesterman was ‘suffering very much from bruises and shock’.

Well, you would be.

There was a happy ending for Hawkins as his sight gradually returned and he was expected to make a full recovery, but spare a thought for Mrs Chesterman.

The reporter informed us that the poor woman was 60 years old, and ‘the shock has proved to be a very severe one in her case, OWING TO HER ADVANCED AGE.’

That’s right: in those days, any poor old dear who made it to 60 was thought to have reached ‘advanced age’.

I read this to my wife, unsure of what her reaction might be, but can report it was a surprisingly positive one, as she said she was sure she will not reach ‘an advanced age’ for years.

She didn’t say how many, but I will keep you posted.