Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
1st August 2023 - Whether they are bah t'at or wi' t'at, I'd like to wish my fellow Tykes a Happy Yorkshire Day. For the uninitiated, confused over this tattery of which I speak, I'm referencing lyrics within the unofficial Yorkshire folk anthem On Ilkley Moor Bah T'at. The refrain telling of a Tyke's trials... Continue Reading →
Sitting in the bosom of an east Yorkshire campsite, the chirp of birds (of an unknown species) accompanies this prose litteraire. When I say the birds are of an unknown species, I’m referring to the fact GJ Strachan isn’t party to the specific avian breed. Not that I have stumbled across a ne’er before identified... Continue Reading →
Spending time living in the great outdoors, your back hair being blown evocatively by a summer zephyr, can be wonderful fun… Unless, of course, you don’t have back hair. In which case my heart goes out to you for missing out on such brio. With the above in mind, my owning of a campervan, along... Continue Reading →
In my last blog I wrote of a campervan breakfast of singed crumpets and coffee at a scenic campsite on Scarborough’s periphery. The bakery fare smeared with my ‘go to’ toast topping of Marmite; a vegemite wonder which, along with a strong coffee, often jumpstart GJ Strachan’s dormant morning tastebuds. While eating the petit dejeuner... Continue Reading →
As I commence penning these observations, I am sitting outside my campervan on the periphery of the North Yorkshire seaside haven of Scarborough. Situated within a pleasant camping park, the surrounding areas provide an aesthetically pleasing accompaniment to my literary toil. I am unsure of the specific names of the rolling tree lined hills bestowing... Continue Reading →
Since returning from my Portuguese vacation on Friday, frustratingly I’ve been laid low with overwhelming fatigue and ‘the runs’. The only plus side of the latter being frequent dashes to the bathroom have meant, despite illness, I am maintaining my daily Fit Bit step target. With regards the tiredness element of my condition, I feel... Continue Reading →
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 →
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 →