Yorkshire Day

1st August 2024 - 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 hatless Yorkshire fella’s trials... Continue Reading →

The Tramp

I’ve not written much of late. For no apparent reason my mood has been low; draining any motivation to indulge in literary projects.  Perversely, annoyance at myself for being in a low spirits for no reason has sent my mood even lower. It has got so bad, yesterday evening GJ Strachan had a word with... Continue Reading →

Our Father Who Art In…

Tomorrow Father's Day makes a perennial June tarry to the UK; a twenty four hour residency which introduces mixed emotions for GJ Strachan. On one hand, esprit consequential of ordinarily having opportunity to meet up with one or both my offspring. However, at the other end of the emotional spectrum, melancholy borne from no longer... Continue Reading →

Suffering For My Art

A phalanx of baristas and customers seeking a caffeine hit surround me as I commence this missive. A south Leeds retail centre’s café affording me a domain to place my buttocks, rehydrate and stir whatever creative juice pool I can muster. After tweaking my back yesterday afternoon, this journaling accompanied by intermittent lumbar spasms. Stretching... Continue Reading →

The Picnic

Looking down, it felt like this working-class northern lad had arrived. His eyes drawn to a multicoloured hippy picnic blanket in front of him; the rug laden with a wonderful smorgasbord procured from a Fortnum & Mason festival stall.  His partner belying her usual similar lack of culture by swooning at the champagne feast. Her... Continue Reading →

Window Cleaner’s Secret

Recently, while endeavouring to locate some important document or other, I stumbled across a bunch of long forgotten short stories I’d written during creative writing course attended in 2015. Footnote - When saying stumble I mean inadvertently located; not I'd tripped over a pile of recklessly discarded A4 sheets. Anyhow, I accidentally located six or... Continue Reading →

The Good Stamford Bridge

As a Leeds United supporter, the words Stamford Bridge ordinarily conjure up the name of Chelsea football club’s stadium. Our West London rivals who us Loiners have ‘enjoyed’ an uneasy relationship since 1970; a splinter in relations following an FA Cup Final defeat at the hands of the blue shirted cockney wideboys. “Well, you lost... Continue Reading →

Keen On Keane

“If only I don't bend and break, I'll meet you on the other side, I'll meet you in the light. If only I don't suffocate, I'll meet you in the morning when you wake.” Thoughts and emotions I heard relayed last Friday evening.  To clarify the above wasn’t delivered as a morbid goodnight message from my partner, Sarah. An audio... Continue Reading →

Literary Therapy

Sunlight sneaks through an adjacent window, kissing the upper petals of the white orchid adorning the features dusty sill.  On a nearby kitchen table perches a middle-aged man, laptop afore him. Erratic of mood, he scans his immediate indoor landscape. Blue eyes darting between a full-size sculpture of a horse’s head, a three-dimensional hanging scooter... Continue Reading →

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