The Substantial Signature Dish

I’ve just returned from having Sunday lunch at my parent’s home. Here we dined on one of my mum’s specialty gargantuan meat and tatty pie that would even faze that greedy get on ‘Man v’s Food’. As a result of troughing my maters signature dish, I’ve returned home feeling like the anaconda, that I saw…

Not An Exact Science

“I had coffee this morning with an new acquaintance who I found forthright. I was late though as he told me his local cafe was third right!” I know that’s an awful gag that I shouldn’t have shared in this meander down random avenue, which is the main road connected to the third right and…

Farnley’s Nicest Hands 1957

Recently, I had a bit of wake up call. An epiphany where it dawned on me just how hard my parents had worked to provide my siblings and me with a comfortable, warm and secure upbringing. Were they the thoughts of a man coming to terms with his own mortality, following a many recent stories…

“The Clever Get Can Even Spell Krzywiki!”

Saturday 19th September 1970 probably doesn’t register in the conscious mind of most people as anything special. Potentially, if you are a rock music aficionado, you may know it as the day of the first Glastonbury Festival held at Michael Eavis’s farm in Glastonbury. A keen rock fan may also register the date as one…

A Landmark of Sorts

The number 400 is not an overly special number for anything in particular. At least not for any one thing that immediately springs to mind. The only thing that immediately jumps out at me, apart from Karen who’d for some reason was hidden in a cupboard, are 400 metres is the distance of the circuit…

Last Dingo In Paris

As I edge towards the publishing of my 400th blog on writesaidfred.org , I recently spent time reflecting on what I’ve elicited from the penning of 100,000’s of words in the 16 months since the inception of my website. As I’ve written previously, I initially started the project as a distraction from the day to…

Return of The Prodigal Son

It was good to have my son Jonny and his girlfriend Jenny visit yesterday afternoon. To celebrate the return of the prodigal son, we lit the bbq, dining heartily on a fatted calf (well sausage, beef burgers and ribs). When I call him the prodigal son, I’m not making comparisons to Jesus’ parable of the…

The Drink of Crows

Yesterday teatime, I stood inside St Michael’s Fisheries queuing for pre-cricket match fish and chips. The late afternoon humidity and heat from the frying combined to give the diminutive fish and chip establishment an ambient temperature of a crow’s armpit, after it has flown from John O’Groats in Scotland to Newark in Nottinghamshire. Do crow’s…

A Bit Of A ‘To Do’!

I had a discussion about voice recognition security with a representative of a financial institution today. Displaying the usual excellent customer service I’ve come to expect from the keepers of the Strachan fortune, I was interestingly provided with an insight into how part of my security details could be partly verified by my voice. Re-assured…