Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Last Saturday saw my first day at the races since pre-COVID19 lockdown. The outing part of a weekend in Newcastle with my son-in-law Simon; meeting up with my brother Ian who lives across the River Tyne in Gateshead. Incidentally, although I refer to Simon as my son-in-law that is not strictly true. Well not since... Continue Reading →
In lieu of a blog, today I include my submission for a writing group I attended yesterday. The prompt for our submissions was 'flooded river':- Through my front room window, I watch water advance slowly towards the riverside bungalows neighbours and I call home. Although proceeding at a sloth-like pace it remains a a sinister... Continue Reading →
The new year is upon us. For many the start of January manifesting resolutions aimed at improving physical and/or mental wellbeing. People’s declarations of existential advancement coming in various ways. For instance, gym memberships increase, sales of workout gear surge skywards like new years fireworks, and I purge all thoughts of taking up lion taming.... Continue Reading →
I have been stricken with COVID since Christmas Day; the virus an unintended festive present from my fragrant beau Sarah… Well, hopefully the pathogen wasn’t intentionally passed to me by the shapely West Yorkshire lass. Although with her mischievous sense of humour, I wouldn’t totally rule it out. The Ossett lady was similarly afflicted last... Continue Reading →
If I am not on his naughty list, in eleven days Santa will have broken into my flat. With a bit of luck, though, not to ransack its festively decorated chambers or quaff my favourite single malt whisky. No, the chubby red-faced bloke’s modus operandi will be to impart yuletide cheer in the shape of... Continue Reading →
This morning, as I am off work this week, yours truly made a cameo appearance at the Next Chapter writing group meeting which I’ve been unable to attend since cutting short my retirement. My submission for the workshop, where the topic hook was ‘fireworks’, is below. A spoof ‘horrible history’ biographical vignette relating to Guy... Continue Reading →
Apart from the odd journey to keep the engine ticking over and stopping the battery going flat, Victor (my VW campervan) has been placed into hibernation for the winter. When I say hibernation I, of course, do not mean I’ve driven him into a huge box containing water, lettuce and shredded newspaper like Blue Peter... Continue Reading →
Yesterday witnessed the celebration of All Hallows' Evening in numerous countries across the globe. A time of fancy dress, imaginatively sculptured pumpkins and hyper kids not sleeping after eating six bags of Haribo gummy bears, four lollipops and eighteen sherbet dips. Blimey, I’m showing my age there. I'm not even sure you can still purchase sherbet dips.... Continue Reading →
I am back in Wakefield after a two-night sabbatical aboard Victor the Volkswagen campervan. Despite their best efforts to sully our odyssey, the weather gods were unable to break our spirit. It takes more than sporadic rainstorms and diminishing temperatures to crush the verve of my partner Sarah and me. While Knaresborough campsite in situ,... Continue Reading →