Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
During a reflective moment yesterday, lyrics to Daryl Hall and John Hall's 1970s song Sara's Smile meandered evocatively around my neurological corridors. These locutions floated around my mind, gently blown along by a metaphorical zephyr. Calming and soothing my soul, evoking thoughts of my beau Sarah. Sure, unlike Daryl Hall's girlfriend Sara, my Ossett squeeze... Continue Reading →
Last weekend saw my inaugural visit to a music festival. It has only took six decades but the wait was well worth it, even the ninety minutes it took to get from the venue entrance to my camper van pitch. If there is a sun god, he also had tickets to the musical clambake. His... Continue Reading →
The first known batch of Scotch whisky was recorded on this day in 1495; the first distillation accredited to a Tironensian monk named John Cor. The man of pray a servant in King James IV’s court at Lindores Abbey, Fife. For the uninitiated, the Tironensian Order was a medieval monastic order named after the location of the mother abbey in France (Tiron Abbey), which... Continue Reading →
As I commence putting pen to paper, the soundscape of Adele singing her melancholic refrain 'When We Were Young' reverberates around my living room. Obviously, the source of the Tottenham-born singer's lament is my smart speaker; the one where Alexa resides rent free. The superstar (Adele, not Alexa) hasn't, of course, travelled to my modest West Yorkshire... Continue Reading →
On this day in mid-1960's my younger brother Ian made his inaugural appearance into the world. Born at our Leeds home, our kid arrived shortly after, in their second World Heavyweight Championship fight Cassius Clay had knocked out Sonny Liston. With Clay (latterly Muhammed Ali) winning by first round KO, Ian didn't arrive in time to... Continue Reading →
Recently I visited the White Rose Shopping Centre, in South Leeds. During this tarry, procuring a new printer for the purpose of printing copies of my daily narratives. At the cost of £19.99, a gracious offer from monsieur WH Smith and folk at his splendid stationery emporium. Quite perversely, the purchase price less than that... Continue Reading →
This weeks topic prompt for a writing group I attend on a bi-weekly basis was 'ceremony'. A suggestion leading me to write/read out the following tongue-in-cheek narrative:- Ceremony – by Gary Strachan Today, with our thoughts on ceremonies, I’ve decided to revisit the day 35 years ago when I walked down the aisle of a County... Continue Reading →
In a move to improve my exercise regime, which brings with it many benefits, GJ Strachan is contemplating purchasing a heavy duty punchbag. Preferably one around six foot in height with ground-based footings and of robust constitution. Blimey, while articulating the previous sentence, it felt like yours truly was penning a half-assed lonely-hearts ad..... That being... Continue Reading →
At the risk of turning this into a less accomplished Alan Bennett biscuit monologue, yesterday I became reacquainted with the joys of Rich Teas. After having my head turned with the enchantment of a chocolate Hob Nob in the mid-1980's, a cookie pleasure I'd not experienced for decades. The chocolate coated seductresses beckoning me to... Continue Reading →