Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
A couple of years back, in an attempt to increase the versatility of my work, I set myself a challenge of penning poetry, as an aside to my daily blog. Deliberately quilled in an enigmatic, cryptic and pretentious style, these sonnets provoked the reader into their own challenge of unravelling the meaning of the locutions.... Continue Reading →
As I write, outside the unforgiving spring bluster which has blighted Blighty for a few days continues unabated. Buffeting the budding deciduous tress, which in summer mask my rear window view of Colton Retail Park's side brickwork, roof tiles and car park. Rather randomly, the back and forth swaying of the trees brings to mind the... Continue Reading →
Tomorrow sees the 100th anniversary of the end of the Great War (WWI). To mark this occasion today I've decided to take a break from the status quo and write a poem. A piece of prose addressing a fallen soldier from that conflict, referencing the irony of this centenary celebration's close proximity to seemingly fraught... Continue Reading →
Early this week, on departing the M1 at junction 46*** I was close enough to the cargo lorry in front to read it's warning of 'If you can't see my mirrors I can't see you'. A message I felt moved to idiosyncratically add as a mission statement on my Facebook profile. Doing so in the... Continue Reading →
On Thursday, while queuing for what turned out to be a splendid ham and piccalilli sandwich, I noticed a sign hanging close to the shop entrance advertising a charity called Campaign Against Living in Misery (CALM). As I waited for my butty to be freshly made, I scanned further detail about this campaign/charity, of which... Continue Reading →
With only a few hours of waiting to see if history will be made, excitement levels in England's high streets, offices, homes and off-licences are at an almost unprecedented level. Displays of giddiness I've not witnessed since last year when an acquaintance heard he'd won TV chef Gordon Ramsay's swear box in a raffle. Consequently... Continue Reading →
If the Dulux paint chart is to believed, in recent days the sky has been a 'striking cyan' colour. That being said, Crown paints beg to differ with their stock list indicating the celestial dome above us is more 'splashing around' blue. I'll let the two UK paint giants argue whose chromatic descriptive is most... Continue Reading →
Exhausting the superlatives utilised to describe the enchantment of the Lake District has it's challenges. In the absence of a better simile, the degree of difficulty in achieving the paucity of adjectives is akin to an inward high board dive incorporating a tuck, pike, along with a straight water entry. For centuries the aesthetic splendour... Continue Reading →
Tuesday 24th April - I'm Bexley Wing in situ, sitting on a waiting room sofa adjacent to my wife. Our attendance at the Leeds hospital wing necessitated by her appointment for monthly oncology treatment. Patients left and right aren't clowns and jokers - Although we are 'stuck in the middle'*** of patients and their brood.... Continue Reading →