Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred

Daily Journals From Deep Within A Capricious Mind

Postcards from

Spoof holiday tales

Grinning Vokes

After a brief sabbatical close to the town of Whitby, I’m back in Leeds. My maison de vacances for the last few days located a five minute stroll from Skinningrove beach, North Yorkshire. It’s unspoilt cove the outstanding feature of this coastal village; a locale which exists in capricious harmony with the North Sea’s unforgiving waves and bracing winds. Gust-sourced sandstorms providing a perfect remedy for clearing ones woolly heads resultant […]

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Today sees my last day on the North Yorkshire break hastily instigated a week ago in a bid to escape the relentless stress consequential of living at my mum’s abode. Anxiety levels heightened by our increasingly fraught relationship, which’d reached a plateau where yours truly genuinely feared, if unaddressed, I’d undergo another heart attack. That being said, I suspect spending four nights in a Thirsk cottage writing on my laptop, […]

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A Sherry & Mince Pie, Please!

On opening the Strachan advent calendar door number four this morning I was greeted by the souls of the oppressed. Although affable enough souls, particularly when you take into account the terrible suffering they’ve endured, I’m beginning to hold misgivings about investing in Torture magazine’s festive calendar***. Todays’s bestowal as equally disturbing as the Fingernails of No Return which yesterday laid in wait from behind the calendar’s door number three. It’s […]

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“Appen, Veterinary.”

I’m writing this life chronicle in a rural village four miles south of market town Thirsk, North Yorkshire. Apparently farmland on the periphery of this cottage, where I’m residing for a few days, former working haunts of veterinary/author James Herriot. The vet/penman whose series of books were heavily inspired by epiphanies sourced by real-life interactions with characters and scenery from this agrarian domain. Market towns such as Thirsk, Malton, Ripon […]

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Where There’s No Smoke, There’s No Fire

There’s an engineer due this afternoon. His mission, should he choose to accept it, to repair my mum’s gas fire which has refused to ignite since last Friday. Frustratingly, I tried a variety of unsuccessful strategies to remedy the problem, including exclaiming irritable cries of “Work you useless piece of s***e!” However, this approach failed to bear fruit, or indeed flames. Likewise, a less confrontational approach of engaging arbitration and conciliation […]

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Along with millions worldwide, I observed a two minute silence, marking one hundred and one years since guns fell silent in WWI. The anniversary of an armistice between the Allied countries and Germany – Ending a four year war which saw around 40 million military and civilian casualties. I wasn’t sure which surprised me more, learning of the sheer scale of human slaughter during the Great War, or the fact […]

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Beside The Seaside, Beside The Sea

I’m back in East Ardsley, West Yorkshire, after an enjoyable few days break residing in a lodge at Heysham on the Lancashire coastline. This pleasant enough town, an Irish Sea port for ferries to the Isle of Man and Ireland, which although accessible by road not wardrobe I’ve been unreliable assured is twinned with Narnia. Thankfully, though, there was less snow, lions and witches in Heysham than Narnia. When I say […]

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