As lockdown protocols begin to ease in England, I suspect there’ll be individuals pondering how to diplomatically backtrack on their lockdown suggestions of “Let’s get together for a beer when this is all over.” In some cases, notions tendered to people disingenuously; foolish promises to acquaintances whose company they’d rather avoid. A friend falling into…
Category: fiction
Half Mast
While my mother sits in her armchair watching today’s funeral of Prince Philip, The Duke of Edinburgh, I’ll be shredding a pile of documents in the matriarch’s kitchen. Like jet blasting muck from patios, yours truly find the wanton destruction of confidential documents a cathartic experience. The bank statements, tax code documents and delinquent insurance…
Count To Ten, Gary!
The strain of being a full-time carer to my mother hit me yesterday evening, when I’d an unacceptable meltdown when my plans to watch the live rugby league game were derailed. Aspirations of unwinding in front of the Leeds Rhinos v Wigan Warriors game departing down the same avenue where Lord Lucan disappeared. The source…
Scream If You Wanna Go Faster!
Yesterday morning I took my mum for her second COVID jab. With Maggie suffering a stroke not long after receipt of the initial vaccination, I raised questions regarding potential jeopardy levels from a subsequent injection. Fears calmed by assurances there’s more risk to the octogenarians’s health by declining the coronavirus countering serum. Consequently, as West…
Crows Of The East
Endeavouring to reach the plateau of moving poetic prose my brother Ian produces in song lyrics, at the weekend I asked my younger sibling what his secret was. Misunderstanding to what I was alluding, Ian candidly responded his guilty secret was finding animated dog Scooby Doo adorable. Not wishing to dwell on this revelation, yours…
Respite
As I commence this prose, my brother Ian’s just left our mother’s home where he’s been providing me respite from carer to our mater. Him affording me a break from the caring role a huge fillip for his elder sibling. Another boon was my notoriously clumsy brother left the matriarchal gaff without breakage. An achievement…
When Maggie Nearly Met Lizzie
As I prepare to wax lyrical, my Saturday morning soundscape is Led Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’ accompanied by the sizzle of frying pork sausages. This gratifying aural backdrop augmented by the sound of my kid brother Ian chopping veg to add to the casserole he’s cooking for this evenings potlatch. Footnote – To clarify Led…
Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
At 7.50 am this morning, yours truly’s was faffing around updating the aesthetics of my blogging website strachan.blog. Consequential of this electronic cosmetic dilly dallying, the domain now possesses a fresh look and feel. Now displaying rejuvenated screens with a new sky blue background and dark berry text. This electronic metamorphosis a process which’s undertaken…
Sorcery
One of the quirks of recently embarking on my full-time carers role is the mischievous providential sorcery which comes with the job. Fate taking it upon itself to spontaneously issue the carer with additional tasks at the most inopportune of moments. Since I’ve commenced the ’employ’ supporting my mother, almost every occasion a meal is…