Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
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 →
Individuals who know me will vouch, when it comes to what makes me laugh, I'm sporadically liable to regress back into childhood behaviour. Episodes where I'm prone to belly laugh over the most randomly innocuous or absurd whimsical events. An example of this during my fledgling years played out as a ten year old. An... Continue Reading →
At around midday yesterday yours truly walked a tentative, yet still curious, canine into an Ossett dog grooming salon. Bereft of his coat trimming for several weeks, along with being visually hampered by unkempt facial hair, he looked like a neglected waif and stray. Incidentally, the neglected waif and stray was the dog, not me.... Continue Reading →
Not only is today (May 1st) 'World Naked Gardening Day', coincidentally it's also 'World Arrested For Indecent Exposure Day'. A harsh lesson learned this morning when visiting a local garden centre. Unbeknown to me, this horticultural celebration day's protocols not covering the nude procurement of products from a garden centres. My shame exacerbated further by... Continue Reading →
This morning my habitual negligence for leaving stuff in pockets of hoodies/jeans pre-launder reached a new pinnacle. Ordinarily, these faux pas' result in a tissue, which's been washed and spun for an hour, exploding within the washing machine barrel. An episode ordinarily leaving post-wash garments covered with dandruff-like debris. Producing a post-wash landscape similar to... Continue Reading →
For the last few weeks, like a latter day Pied Piper, I've been accompanied everywhere by a couple of furry shadows. It's fair to say, though, the two dogs following inches from my heels are a darned sight more enchanting than the rodents legend claims following a piper from within Hamelin's walls. That being said,... Continue Reading →
Unlike the Hot Chocolate song which started with a kiss, after prompting from my buddy Sarah, GJ Strachan's final birthday in his 50's started with Alexa singing him a hearty rendition of 'Happy Birthday To You'. The virtual songbird making a far better fist of the famed refrain than yours truly who decided to go... Continue Reading →
Ashes from last night's chiminea fire stare back at me as I commence today's descriptif quotidien. Hopefully that snippet of info paints the landscape I'm scribing this prose from a rattan pew at the top of my back garden. Although saying that, as I doubt you know the location my aforementioned fire pit, or indeed... Continue Reading →