Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Walking the dogs this morning set me thinking about what part, if any, the cosmos bears in how our capricious lives pan out. This pondering ignited by something as unremarkable as seeking to understand why my strolling buddies always walk on the opposite side of an obstruction (eg lamp post or park gate) to my... Continue Reading →
I'm alfresco as I ascribe my prose this sunny Monday morn. Amongst the immediate landscape nemesia, marigolds, a patio rose, begonias and forget me nots bequeathing yours truly chromatic views. Aesthetics which calm the soul and augment my already burgeoning amour for Mother Nature. With the clan home, bought by my parents in 1989, changing... Continue Reading →
In 1982 an Eton school master wrote to Boris Johnson's father, Stanley, lambasting the 17 year old for believing it is churlish of Eton tutors not to regard him as an exception. The classics teacher's polemic going on to inform his pater, Johnson junior also felt he should be free of the network of obligation... Continue Reading →
Six days after changing from a positive to a negative COVID condition I'm still suffering from fluctuating energy levels. In fact I was so wiped out on Saturday I slept for huge swathes of the day. Only vacating my pit to eat lunch and dinner, along with a spontaneous episode where I felt moved to... Continue Reading →
After almost a week where my constitution experienced eddying waves of malady, I'm now testing negative for COVID-19. Despite this, though, I remain as weak as a cup of tea whose bag was stolen by a passing seagull after only a one second union with boiling water. Footnote - Incidentally, the pinched bag of which... Continue Reading →
"I felt like I'd been dragged five miles along cobbled stones by a shire horse named Gloria, who, upon arriving at Wakefield cathedral's vast wooden doors, sat on my chest as it shared a Costa latte and a natter with her equine buddy Maisy." This inaugural paragraph of this narrative my response to a friend... Continue Reading →
This pièce littéraire is brought to you at a second attempt - Following a network issue at the Majorcan hotel I resided last week, my inaugural attempt wasn't saved to my editing app. An episode which didn't spring to light until I attempted to retrieve the six hundred words I'd painstakingly written on a tablet.... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, while scouring Facebook timeline announcements like a ferret seeking an errant contact lens, a mischievous notion manifested from deep within my capricious mind. Concluding this epiphany, although admittedly silly, was a harmless enough conception to include these observations within this prose. As is my want when scribing these journals, or posting online, I constantly... Continue Reading →
As a stickler for adhering to old wife's advocacies, GJ Strachan faced an (admittedly small) conundrum yesterday afternoon. This infinitesimal poser manifesting during discussions with a friend about 1970's UK punk band The Sex Pistols. The episode playing out when I was questioned about the title of their only studio recorded album. Although acutely aware... Continue Reading →