Seven

So the birthday has come around again, and this time Eloise opted for a rock climbing birthday at Urban Climb in West End down in the City.

Inspired by Ickle Daisey's birthday last year, she decided she wanted a party with kids haring up and down fake cliff faces.

All good, and easily organised.

The catering however was a different matter, and one to which Nicole as ever applied herself with aplomb and devotion, taking Rock as her theme, as you might expect.

We had Rock Candy, aka crystalised sugar sticks, crystalising all week, Rock Scones, Rockmelon, Popcorn Pebbles, and of course le piece de la resistance, the Mountain Cake.

Of course in Australia (as in other places, who knows?) when you have a party all of the attendees must be provided with party bags filled with cheap crap, so there was some cheap crap shopping thrown in there as well.

It was a busy day, with present opening (thanks to all who sent presents), dog walking, cake making, party bag packing, rock-candy presentation and all that guff.

And then the main event itself, three hours of rock climbing which went past in a blur of belaying, a cornucopia of climbing, a festoon of face-filling.

The nice thing was that practically all the kids (numbers were limited to ten or so this year, thanks be to the deity of your choice) had parents who looked after their belaying, so they were all at it nearly all the time, and up and down like the fabled Assyrian Empire.

And it was a hot day, so ten or so very sweaty kids by the end of it all.

We topped it off with an intimate pizza meal. Which was nice.

The next day Nicole was off on a jet plane to fulfil her daughterly role of emotional and logistical support to her mother following the timely but protracted and rather difficult passing on of Grandad Stuart.

Commiserations and condolences to her for her loss. Perhaps the coincidence of the birthday will help in the future to temper the feelings that the anniversary will bring.