Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
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 →
Tomorrow Father's Day makes a perennial June tarry to the UK; a twenty four hour residency which introduces mixed emotions for GJ Strachan. On one hand, esprit consequential of ordinarily having opportunity to meet up with one or both my offspring. However, at the other end of the emotional spectrum, melancholy borne from no longer... Continue Reading →
Consequential of my car undergoing an annual MOT test, GJ Strachan is scribing today's literary offering on the road. As writing while highway in situ or driving a vehicle with laptop on knee is wantonly reckless, it goes without saying my penning 'on the road' revelation shouldn't be taken literally. I'm, of course, inferring these... Continue Reading →
Spending so much time on my own of late has been a catalyst to me occasionally indulging in absurd faux conversations with my dog companions Deano and Zella. These sporadic episodes ordinarily playing out as I stroll past the little scamps while wandering chez Strachan's soon to be sold chambers and gardens. My pretend conversations... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening yours truly carelessly fell asleep in bed while still chewing gum. With the gum dropping out of my drooling unconscious gob, luckily jeopardy from choking was negated; however, it's fair to say, being a very hairy fella I didn't emerge from this incident unscathed. With an accompaniment of hair follicles being torn unforgivingly... Continue Reading →