Betty Morton, 100, from Rutherglen

It’s not been that easy getting here, to be honest. I just took every birthday as it came and suddenly I realised – I’m going to be 100! I have the odd pain here and there, I’m a bit unsteady on my feet now and I got a pacemaker fitted when I was 96 but on the whole, I’m doing all right. The consultant who fitted the pacemaker said if he could bottle my genes and sell them, he would make a fortune.

My dad was in World War One, then he worked for the railways. My mum came from the north of Scotland, a wee place 12 miles from Elgin, called Auchenhalrig. We went there every summer for years, and I just loved it.

I left school at the age of 14, to work in Robert Simpson and Sons, a hardware and clothing shop on Jamaica Street – which eventually became House of Fraser. They sent me to the tailoring room at first, but I couldn’t even sew on a button, so what on earth did I know about making clothes? So I became a shorthand typist then a bookkeeper, and I stayed there until I retired in 1978, when I was 60. I loved every minute of it.

I loved dancing, too. We didn’t go to the big dance halls in Glasgow, we preferred the wee local hall in Springburn, where I loved. We’d go on a Saturday night, maybe get a ‘walk home’.

That was where I met Alex. He came in with a friend, and as soon as I saw him, I thought – I’m going to get him. And I did. We got married in 1951.

I took some time off to have my daughter, June, and I went back to work when she was eight. Mothers go back to work too early nowadays, in my opinion. June was, and still is, a perfect child. She comes to visit, she cooks for me. We have Morrisons Mondays, when we go out for lunch and shopping. I don’t get around so well now, my balance is a bit off, so I need a wheelchair when I’m out. We go on holiday together too – we were away up north to Morayshire twice last year, which was lovely.

Alex died in 1976, after a long struggle with diabetes and heart disease. I still miss him.

I spend my spare time watching sport. I’m a big Aberdeen fan, and used to listen to the games on the radio with my mother, Jean. Even when she went in to hospital, near the end of her life, she’d put on the tranny and we’d listen to the football together. The club were kind to me when I turned 100 in December. They sent me a special programme, with my picture in it. I also got a card from Anton du Beke, organised by my family. He said: “I wish I was there to dance with you, Betty.” That was lovely.

And of course I got a telegram from the Queen. The South Lanarkshire Provost came to visit and we had a party. I felt like a VIP.

Losing friends is the hardest thing about being 100. My best friend here in Lochaber Court died many years ago, and I’m still here.

I don’t think there’s a secret to growing old. I’ve just done it my way and if I could do it again, I’d do it all the same. I’ve just been me.