Home Page A pile of Grow Your Own Cows   

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On the front page of the Observer in a gigantic pile of recycling  
Chapter One
Dilapidated, crumbling, vermin-infested, spidery dumps  
Chapter Two
The mirror can’t hurt you  
Chapter Three
Little forests of soil testing kits  
Chapter Four
Old Grandpa Shepherd's grizzled old face melted forever  
Chapter Five
Just one overgrown, overlooked marrow makes about fourteen jars of chutney  
Chapter Six
a huge, talon-ridden white vulture with an enormous beak  
Chapter Seven
If you’ve never driven thirty or forty miles with a calf in the back of your car, I recommend it  
Chapter Eight
All this self-sufficiency lark didn’t exist in a vacuum  
Chapter Nine
Gang-Ging Up  
Chapter Ten
There was nothing to do but hide behind the piano eating crisps  
Chapter Eleven
The bass bits in At The Name of Jesus really set you up for the day  
Chapter Twelve
Six sets of beady little eyes looked up at me  
Chapter Thirteen
You could easily pretend that there was a monster there about to burst through and eat us  
Chapter Fourteen
Cows come into season like dogs  
Chapter Fifteen
Where to buy Grow Your Own Cows in bookshops:
Oxford

Blackwell's Bookshop - 48-51 Broad Street, Oxford
The Book House - 267 Banbury Road, Summertown, Oxford

 

Abingdon

Mostly Books - 36 Stert Street, Abingdon
The Book Store - 15 Bury Street, Abingdon

 

West Oxfordshire

Evenlode Books - Market Street, Charlbury
The Woodstock Bookshop - 23 Oxford Street, Woodstock

Of course you can also buy on Amazon.
 
An evil temper  
New Extract!
Chapter Sixteen
I started thinking about popping down the shop and just buying a pack of Lurpak  
Chapter Seventeen
My father was flat on his back with his legs in the air  
Chapter Eighteen
My mum’s particular skill for burning herself  
Chapter Nineteen
A row of red ants exploring their way in a line up her leg  
Chapter Twenty
A bit of a love hate relationship  
Chapter Twenty-One
We hadn’t wasted anything and that was the main thing  
Chapter Twenty-Two
The endless power struggle between a man and his Dexter  
Chapter Twenty-Three
I usually ploughed straightaway into the nearest drift  
Chapter Twenty-Four
Unfortunately there weren’t any pirates or drug smuggling rings in rural Oxfordshire  
Chapter Twenty-Five
I always opened my little ‘Tuck’ pot with fear  
Chapter Twenty-Six
About as punk as West Oxfordshire ever got  
Chapter Twenty-Seven
In the rat race you only have to get up early five days instead of seven  
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Battle Of Cliff's Field  
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I pass myself off as a normal person  
Chapter Thirty
All writing copyright © Rebecca Williams 2009. All illustration copyright © Maria Smedstad 2009

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