Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
"Who wants to be a millionaire?..... I don't Have flashy flunkies everywhere?..... I don't Who wants the bother of a country estate? A country estate is something I'd hate Who wants to wallow in champagne?..... I don't Who wants a supersonic plane?..... I don't Who wants a private landing field too?..... I don't And I... Continue Reading →
Just to add further calendar confusion to this whole COVID landscape, this year May Day Bank Holiday Monday is being celebrated on a Friday. This switch allowing none key workers a day off to celebrate the 75th anniversary of VE Day. Subsequently, today those employee's residences will return solely to domestic abodes, not the recent... Continue Reading →
Sitting at my garden patio table, sipping a cryogenically cold lemonade to combat a thirst worked up during my recent walk to the food store, I currently seek topic inspiration for this second blog of the day. Despite witnessing a chromatic canvas, courtesy of adjacent cottage garden shrubs to my left, epiphanies escape me. I... Continue Reading →
Today's warmth imparted by our meteorological gods is such yours truly was able to consume breakfast alfresco. Sitting at the patio table, accompanied by a landscape of flourishing late spring borders, I contentedly devoured marmite on toast along with a builders strength brew. My environment, enhanced further by an aural backdrop of birdsong, leading me... Continue Reading →
This afternoon's scheduled garden maintenance has been scuppered by the lower back trauma consequential of previous horticultural chores. Subsequently, I'm sitting at my patio table accompanied by an amalgam of laptop, sporadic muscle spasms and frustration one of my lockdown pastimes has been furloughed. If it wasn't bad enough enduring COVID-19 induced lockdown, now I'm... Continue Reading →
The lower back trauma I wrote about in Gaining Groucho’s Gait, although significantly less uncomfortable, continues to plague me. Sporadic spasms when making sharp core movements reminding me the back injury still holds unwanted tenancy. The sprain's eviction notice evidently not yet bearing fruit. Bereft of pain while sitting, or laying in bed, occasionally the... Continue Reading →
Consequential of ricking my lower back while gardening, I'm in severe discomfort as I commence this chronicle. While my peony rose enjoys its liberty from my eradication of adjacent shrubbery, gaining the solar ray warmth the far denied in 2020, I'm subjecting myself to the skin warmth bequeathed by Deep Heat cream. It's remit that... Continue Reading →
It would've been my old man's 84th birthday today. At 9am precisely, and in no particular order, he'd have commenced a ring around of his three offspring in turn. After my siblings Ian, Helen and I had bestowed birthday wishes upon Malcolm, in his engaging Leeds accent, he'd have expressed gratitude for his presents. Our... Continue Reading →
In lockdown my brother Ian and adult son Jonathon, the brood's musicians, have both picked up their acoustic guitars for the first time in years. My son didn't actually play his instrument on picked it up, it was raised from it's stand to undertake a heavy handed flattening of a spider on his spare room... Continue Reading →