Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
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 →
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 →
After a few days hiatus from quilling these (almost) daily observations, GJ Strachan returns to his laptop keyboard feeling reinvigorated, brio filled and refreshed. That being said, the amount I've drank over the weekend, I should be bloody refreshed! Incidentally, that is definitely supposed to read brio instead of brie, above. Yours truly feeling moved... 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 →
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 →
Liking a challenge, and in the absence of inspirational alternatives, today I've set myself a task of penning prose (minimum 500 words) about the pile of ironing I'm repeatedly strolling past while going about my daily chores. No, don't go!..... Come back!!...... It might not seem a subject which'll warm the cockles of your heart,... Continue Reading →
With audible similarities to an aardvark sandpapering a brandy barrel (trust me, I know), the soundscape accompanying the commencement of this blog is Deano the Lhasa Apsop's rasping snore. Little Lord Avashight (as I tend to nickname the diminutive scamp) laid snoozing on the sofa a few feet from my scribing perch. My view that... Continue Reading →
Thirty two years ago tomorrow I became a father for the first time when my son Jonathon joined the cast of this reality show called life. A rollercoaster of a gig my boy has thus far weathered relatively well; arriving into adulthood as an engaging and grounded young man of whom I'm immensely proud. Never... Continue Reading →