Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
In my last blog I wrote of a campervan breakfast of singed crumpets and coffee at a scenic campsite on Scarborough’s periphery. The bakery fare smeared with my ‘go to’ toast topping of Marmite; a vegemite wonder which, along with a strong coffee, often jumpstart GJ Strachan’s dormant morning tastebuds. While eating the petit dejeuner... Continue Reading →
Mid-summer 1971 - Recently enveloped by imposing thunder clouds, the West Yorkshire skies darkened as a babe in arms, later to be known as ‘The Rebellious One’, makes her inaugural appearance on this dysfunctional planet. The arrival not a virgin birth, or consequently marked by a reverential visit by three wise men. Not too big... Continue Reading →
As I commence penning these observations, I am sitting outside my campervan on the periphery of the North Yorkshire seaside haven of Scarborough. Situated within a pleasant camping park, the surrounding areas provide an aesthetically pleasing accompaniment to my literary toil. I am unsure of the specific names of the rolling tree lined hills bestowing... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, as a writing workshop exercise, we were encouraged to escribe via the medium of sensory awareness. The remit to produce fictional prose relaying our experiences after being placed in an induced coma. This state affording use of all your senses apart from sight and speech. So, in a nutshell, the literary challenge was to... Continue Reading →
Since returning from my Portuguese vacation on Friday, frustratingly I’ve been laid low with overwhelming fatigue and ‘the runs’. The only plus side of the latter being frequent dashes to the bathroom have meant, despite illness, I am maintaining my daily Fit Bit step target. With regards the tiredness element of my condition, I feel... Continue Reading →
Last week’s Portuguese vacation with my partner Sarah has meant it has been a barren time literary wise of late. Sure, I could have still waxed lyric on the Iberian Peninsula. However, instead I chose to indulge on a relaxing seven-day smorgasbord of sun, sand, sangria, silliness, and Sarah. An alliteration brew warming both my... Continue Reading →
During a reflective moment yesterday, lyrics to Daryl Hall and John Hall's 1970s song Sara's Smile meandered evocatively around my neurological corridors. These locutions floated around my mind, gently blown along by a metaphorical zephyr. Calming and soothing my soul, evoking thoughts of my beau Sarah. Sure, unlike Daryl Hall's girlfriend Sara, my Ossett squeeze... Continue Reading →
The first known batch of Scotch whisky was recorded on this day in 1495; the first distillation accredited to a Tironensian monk named John Cor. The man of pray a servant in King James IV’s court at Lindores Abbey, Fife. For the uninitiated, the Tironensian Order was a medieval monastic order named after the location of the mother abbey in France (Tiron Abbey), which... Continue Reading →
On this day in mid-1960's my younger brother Ian made his inaugural appearance into the world. Born at our Leeds home, our kid arrived shortly after, in their second World Heavyweight Championship fight Cassius Clay had knocked out Sonny Liston. With Clay (latterly Muhammed Ali) winning by first round KO, Ian didn't arrive in time to... Continue Reading →