Coffee

When I left home to live in Leeds, aged 17 in 1975, I stayed initially with my brother-in-laws brother in Chapeltown. Day one, I had courgettes for the first time in my life, cooked by Jane. Day two Steve announced “don't have sugar in coffee, it's too expensive”. I was their guest so I obeyed, but he never said “don't have sugar in tea” so despite not having sugar in my coffee I carried on with sugar in my tea for another 10 years before it dawned on me that I didn't like it.

1984 I was hitching up north. I arrived, unplanned, at Joanna's family house in Leeds. Jo was not there, but here mum welcomed me into the busy home. People in and out, conversation criss-crossing the room; “Would you like a coffee Simon?”,

“Yes please”

“Well here's the grinder, and here is the coffee”

Up to then I am not sure if I knew that coffee came from ground beans, but I got into the swing of grinding then by hand. It is a ritual that has stayed with me, coffee from pre-ground powder is just not the same.

The photo is one of the first of Rowan walking - although actually she was already running by this stage