Adieu To Grandad Jack’s Ladders

Today’s chronicle is the first I’ve had the opportunity to pen for three days. Far more important existential events have required my attention in the previous 72 hours than sitting self-indulgently crafting prose. Anyhow, yours truly is back with quill and parchment, more as a mental health efficacy than any enthusiasm to wax lyrical. At…

Survivors

Within the next few days I’ll reach a couple of milestones on this enduring blogging odyssey. Firstly, today’s narrative is the 1,800th piece I’ve penned since, five years ago, embarking on this sojourn by syntax. The second juncture of note is that of the aforementioned five year anniversary of me writing, along with publishing the…

For Mash …..

Commencing this second narrative of the day, its 6.30pm and GJ Strachan currently perches on a dining room chair ensconced within my West Yorkshire abode. Interspersed with jotting down notions, I gaze out into the darkness of the back garden with a rear door wide to the wall. An action taken to allow a cooling…

Eleven Kings

During my fledgling years my main love was association football, as an old Pathe news commentator may’ve dubbed the game in his authoritative BBC English tones. In particular, I was enamoured by the all conquering 1960s/70s Leeds United teams managed by Don Revie. Accomplished exponents of a game that led to a boyhood pipe dream of…

Carrying The Reminders…..

Yesterday in my essay Face Value I wrote of yours truly’s recent reacquaintance with a few vinyl albums of my youth. These original long playing records evoking memories from my fledgling years; melodic antiquities which I’ve habitually revisited of late. These vivid recollections bequeathed by musical imprints indelibly marked on the tapestry of my life, manifesting visions…

Cough Drop & The Boys

I’ve just dropped my car off in Whitkirk for its annual Ministry of Transport test (MOT). Following a meander down the road to Crossgates shopping centre I’m cafe in situ, as I commence this prose; my trusty a laptop and Americano coffee, Yesterday’s narrative Anniversary Stoicism told of how the day would’ve been my parents 59th wedding anniversary….

John Wilson’s Haircut

Yesterday evening I watched a recording of a BBC Four broadcast of the John Wilson Orchestra from the Royal Albert Hall; a performance forming part of the 2019 Proms season. The Gateshead-born conductor’s orchestra treating their audience to a selection of music from Warner Brothers movies. John Wilson was educated in the same Low Fell…

Why? Why? Why?

I’ve felt physically drained over the past few days. Witnessing this constant rain seemingly bearing the same energy depleting qualities which Samson experienced after a trip to the barbers. The Nazarite’s flowing locks, which initially attracted him to his beau Delilah, the fabled source of his immense strength. Their removal rendering him vulnerable to enemies,…