Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
One of the most irksome of the many challenging episodes tainting yours truly's recent existential landscape has been my dementia afflicted mother's recent inability to fathom how the TV remote control functions. Consequently, even the most basic of acts, such as taking the telly out of standby mode, or merely changing channel, are now as... Continue Reading →
Tuesday 17th August 2021 - As I look westerly from my office window, on the horizon the imposing Pennine Hills stare back at me. Views of this magnificent geological landmass a bequest to generations of my ancestors for as long as I'd forebears living in Leeds. Well, I suppose, not exactly like my forebears. After... Continue Reading →
Today's sees the first blog I've written in my newly revamped bedroom/office. Ordinarily penning these essays perched on uncomfortable kitchen chairs, or coffee shop pew, it's good to report my literary environment's been enhanced immeasurably by adding a comfort laden office chair to the amended decor. Only time will tell if my penmanship/creativity output is... Continue Reading →
According to the Sky News article click bait which's just uninvitedly popped onto my mobile device screen, Britain's most notorious conman Mark Acklom will shortly be afforded his release from prison. With my never ending desire to write whimsy, along with mischievousness borne from middle-aged cynicism, exposure to this bulletin heightened my exuberance levels to... Continue Reading →
Although I like to class myself as a reasonable wordsmith, locating the words to effectively express the emotions experienced when caring for someone with a vascular dementia diagnosis is a challenge. A literary impotence I've not previously experienced when broaching other detrital existential plot lines which've sullied my past decade. For instance, at no stage... Continue Reading →
7am Tuesday morning - It's a later arrival at the keyboard than of late for yours truly. Afflicted by sleep deprivation, my recent daily landscape has witnessed me normally concluding these literary trinkets by this time; before groggily wandering downstairs for brekkie. However, with slumbering until 6.45am today my fingers have only just started walking... Continue Reading →
With my brother Ian in possession of the motherly carer baton until 4pm today, I've afforded myself a few hours away from chez Strachan to write a second blog of the day. My current locale a coffee house at a local south Leeds shopping centre - My companions an iced Americano and a bottle of... Continue Reading →
Tomorrow (Friday) my brother Ian is scheduled to arrive in Wakefield, affording me two days/nights respite from caring for our mother Maggie. The matriarch living under a stark landscape poisoned by living with vascular dementia, along with post-stroke physical impairment. With this in mind, it was with some trepidation I awoke this morning to find... Continue Reading →
As part of today's three hours respite from being my mum's carer, I'm sat writing at a White Rose Shopping Centre (WRSC) coffee house. This treat afforded me from midday every Monday when I hand over my metaphorical carers baton to Maggie's sitter Janine. Consequently, each Monday when the clock strikes 12 noon I dash... Continue Reading →