Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
In a dispassionate act, aimed at easing potential transportation issues for my fragrant chum Sarah's two young grandkids (Rory & Gracie), yesterday I included Ossett's finest onto my car insurance cover. The rationale behind the indemnity modification (well, apart from me being an inherently kind fella), was a conclusion my four door vehicle would provide... Continue Reading →
To commence this monologue I've a question for you, my dear reader. Don't worry it's nothing overly technical or scientific; not that you wouldn't have the erudition to deal with any inquiry I posed, I hasten to add..... Hopefully that disclaimer will cut off any hate mail at the pass. Anyhow here's the catechism of... Continue Reading →
Despite being very happy with life in the Wakefield apartment whose occupancy I've just undertaken, my brio levels are somewhat impaired by tenancy edicts barring me from looking after canine buddies Deano and Zella. Consequently the furry duo, who've lived with me for a couple months at my late mother's home, have returned to reside... Continue Reading →
I've not written a blog for nearly a fortnight now. This literary hiatus consequential of time restraints borne from moving from my late parents home into an apartment on Wakefield city centre's periphery. As with anyone undergoing a similar residential transfer will attest, this is a process necessitating the onerous task of packing away all... Continue Reading →
Within the next seven days I'm hoping to receive keys to the Wakefield centre flat which'll shortly become my nouvelle demeure. A rental residence which'll hopefully become base for the new start yours truly seeks following sale of his parent's home. A completion date of 2nd September for our (my siblings and GJ Strachan's) former... Continue Reading →
1st August 2022 - Whether they're spending the next few hours bah t'at or wi' t'at, I'd like to wish my fellow Tykes a Happy Yorkshire Day. For the uninitiated who're confused about this tattery of which I speak, they're references to lyrics within the unofficial Yorkshire folk anthem On Ilkley Moor Bah T'at. It's... Continue Reading →
As a consequence of her broad West Yorkshire dialect, my fragrant buddy Sarah has an endearing habit of pronouncing the city of Bradford's moniker as Bratford. A minor quirk which, although captivating, makes me occasionally remind her "Similar to there's no 'I' in team, there's no 't' in Bradford." Upon receipt of GJ Strachan's mischievous... Continue Reading →
"They seek him here, they seek him thereThose Frenchies seek him everywhereIs he in heaven or is he in hell?That damned elusive Pimpernel." This morning, following a mystifying episode while walking the dogs (who I affectionately dub the Avashight twins), the above words from Dame Emma Orczy's novel The Scarlet Pimpernel made an unscheduled visit... Continue Reading →
As alluded to in my last missive Hot Under The Collar, in a few short weeks I'll be moving from my late parents home into a Wakefield flat. After thirty three years the familial castle, four to six weeks away from sale completion, will soon have the Strachan coat of arms flag metaphorically lowered..... Its... Continue Reading →