Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
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 →
As I scribe today's literary offering, gazing aimlessly through slightly ajar French doors it's thought provoking to witness the juxtaposition provided by prevailing heavy rain. This late spring deluge yours truly's current land and soundscape while impatiently awaiting inspiration for today's topic. On one hand, unless you're a farmer or living with long standing drought... Continue Reading →
Within minutes of his arrival on Friday evening an almighty crash emanated from the downstairs bathroom of our familial home. The sound of ornament breakage so frequently heard during my younger brother Ian's tarries south from Gateshead to Yorkshire you'd think he arrives accompanied by a crockery shattering theme tune. Knowing our kid had smashed... Continue Reading →
Within the last couple of days I've been laid low with the noravirus. A pathogen which, although I'm assured isn't as potentially dangerous as coronavirus, subjects the sufferer to a fairly distressing time symptom wise. Actually, with candour I don't officially know if I've contracted noravirus; I'm self-diagnosing. Ordinarily a habit I find contemptible, however... Continue Reading →
It's pretty quiet within the hallways and chambers of chez Strachan as I write. Apart from sporadic creaking of French doors courtesy of a late spring zephyr, along with an audio of Deano (aka Lord Avashight) the Lhasa apso licking his paws, there's an almost hypnotic hush accompanying my scribing. Sure, the light breeze is... Continue Reading →
I spent the predominant period of my weekend a few miles away in West Yorkshire's Gawthorpe village; located on Ossett's outskirts. Despite the care home where my mother passed in October of last year sitting within its boundaries, through a close friendship with one of its residents (Sarah), it's a borough of which I've become... Continue Reading →
At around midday yesterday, having just fit two solar lights in my buddy Sarah's garden, I picked up her nine month old grandson Rory from his pram, allowing him to survey his grandma's new yard lamps. During this slow meander, in which we also took in the achromatic flowers in her pots, I was startled... Continue Reading →
Recently, during a period of free time afforded by my early retirement, I've mulled over strategies which'd address the unhealthier elements of my lifestyle. To be clear, this pondering hasn't as yet seen me embrace the steps I need to follow; but as they say 'It's the thought that counts'. Seriously, though, this period of... Continue Reading →