Brouhaha

Yesterday my Twitter timeline contained a query tweet asking those witnessing for one word to describe 2020 at this current juncture. Wanting to avoid cliched responses of locutions like ‘unprecedented’, ‘COVID’, ‘lockdown’ and ‘coronavirus’, yours truly plumped for ‘brouhaha’ as an apt descriptive for the last six months. Brouhaha, a wonderful three syllables, not to…

Muddled Messages

As the UK government’s lockdown edicts ease, I grow every more confused at exactly what us Brits can undertake without risk of censure. Muddled messages from on high flummoxing me more than at anytime since, apart from key workers, the populace’s quarantining back in March. Footnote – When I say muddled messages from on high…

Empty Days

There’s a plethora of adaptations which the global family’ve been forced to embrace on planet COVID. Social distancing, lockdown, denial of meeting friends and family just a few undesired concessions necessitated by the pathogen. Consequential of this, it dawned on me how a section of these restrictive edicts have rendered worthless the need of diary…

Half Term Report

“How do I define history? ….. It’s just one f***ing thing after another” A whimsical quote borrowed from Leeds writer Alan Bennett’s prose in the tome History Boys. An observation which, when dusk falls on the year 2020, will perfectly describe the twelve months being consigned to a very large toxic waste bin. As this…

Dance Floor Bah T’at

I was intending to garden this afternoon. However, on this scorching day, my enthusiasm for the task disappeared along with the garden thermometer’s mercury, after it overheated and blew its top. Consequently, as I write, my lawnmower loiters lonely and unloved in the garage, while yours truly lounges at a patio table shaded by parasol….

Taking A Sun Check

Tis a gradely day here in West Yorkshire. An oppressive heat affording opportunity for us Brits to indulge in our national sport of whinging about the weather. These meteorological clarion calls a year long pastime which, if segwayed into Olympic competition, the GB/NI squad would undoubtedly strike gold. Previously, I oft pondered why the same…

It’s Official!

Two days ago, a friend gifted me a Fitbit health monitor watch. Consequently, I’ll now be party to more informed statistical data relating to my daily fitness regime. Management information which’ll confirm officially, if re-affirmation was required, that GJ Strachan currently undertakes absolutely sod all on the exercise front. My above paragraph not decrying this…

The Real Milestone

In this my 1,950th narrative, I wanted to touch upon a separate literary milestone achieved three days ago. This landmark my blogging website writesaidfred.org receiving  100,000 hits since it’s 2015 inception. Its content predominantly jocular, partly fictional journals, diary entries and poems with subjects covering various aspects of past and contemporary life events. This heavily…

Putting Out Fires With Gasoline

Over the past two evenings I’ve lit two chiminea fires. Occasions where I’d sat contentedly adjacent to the pyre, while warmth from the blaze warmed my short clad legs and cockles of my heart…… Or should that be warmed the heartles of my…….. Ok, ok, stop that right now, Strachan! There’s fewer endorphin boosting redolences…