The books in the window have caught my imagination since the first time I saw them. They're in the front window of a house I pass on the way to work, parallel to Brighton seafront.
We'd never catered for vegetarians before. My usual method of cooking for guests is to throw a joint of beef or a chicken in the oven and add the spuds, veg and Yorkshire pud.
Tomorrow I turn 17, so tonight I have to sleep at the bottom of the old well, such is the tradition for boys in our village. Tomorrow I will wake up a man.
