Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
It is two months since the summer solstice and the UK is hurtling towards autumn like a thoroughbred horse released from race stalls. The midday sun gets ever lower, solar rays are markedly cooler and I’ve started frantically searching my house for my portable central heating thermostat. The control box not required just yet, but... Continue Reading →
Last week we in the UK, along with several northern hemisphere countries, were ‘lucky’ enough to witness a partial solar eclipse. Northern Spain, Northern Russia, Greenland and Iceland even ‘luckier’ when becoming party to a full sun blockage. Bereft of special filtered sunglasses, making it safe to look directly at this infrequent astronomical event, I... Continue Reading →
Last Sunday afternoon, as the boxer shorts I’d worn all camping weekend walked themselves to my laundry basket, yours truly hopped into an invigorating shower. Despite being piping hot, and receiving able assistance from a fragrant shower gel, the water’s mission of relieving me of three-day old grime proved a challenge. Mercifully, though, due to... Continue Reading →
Two weeks into the Trump presidency and it’s all kicking off stateside. The Shitkicker King taking little time to become schoolground bully, attempting to steal Canada, Greenland, and Panama’s lunch money. As a non-American I’d love to watch these scenes across the pond with indifference. Let the red necks, 30-year-old virgins, gun freaks, and ill-educated... Continue Reading →
In one of his trademark offbeat observations on the BBC TV gameshow ‘Would I Lie To You?”, likeable funny man Bob Mortimer claimed the distant memories he was about to recount were like “Fingerprints on an abandoned handrail.” This humorous, but idiosyncratic, observation describing how he only had vague memories of the absurd yarn he... Continue Reading →
A phalanx of baristas and customers seeking a caffeine hit surround me as I commence this missive. A south Leeds retail centre’s café affording me a domain to place my buttocks, rehydrate and stir whatever creative juice pool I can muster. After tweaking my back yesterday afternoon, this journaling accompanied by intermittent lumbar spasms. Stretching... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening, a bohemian vegetarian café in Harrogate saw my inaugural attempt at reading my prose in an open mic night. This literary virginity lost when orating a 1000-word narrative parodying my wedding ceremony, in 1988. As I have shared some of the unreliable memories beforehand via blog, not a 100% new monologue. However, following... Continue Reading →
Today's literary offering is a submission I read for a bi-weekly writing group I attend in the village of Spofforth, North Yorkshire. For those who don't know where Spofforth is, it is on the outskirts of Wetherby. If you don't know where Wetherby is and really want to know, bloody Google it!... Chuffing hell, I... Continue Reading →
If you do not follow my regular self-indulgent (although sometimes insightful) postings on social media, you will not know I recently had my first sale from my Etsy store 'GaryCatures'. An online retail outlet peddling copies of original caricatures I started drawing in COVID lockdown. These cartoon depictions an amalgam of stars from the movies,... Continue Reading →