Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
This morning, in preparation for the arrival of a garbage skip later this week I've undertaken the stress busting task of smashing up a single bed with a lump hammer. Like pounding a punch bag, which I undertook during circuit sessions when pre-COVID gym visits were allowed, it's a chore bequeathing an immeasurable lightening of... Continue Reading →
Last night's Zoom quiz amongst the chaps passed in the company of habitual guests whimsy, competitiveness, absurdity, live music, one or two bowls of loud mouth soup and snacking on crisps. This heady amalgam providing an evening of variety entertainment enjoyed by British audiences since Victorian music hall days. Three hours, or so, affording likeminded... Continue Reading →
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.... Continue Reading →
I had another trip over to my son's new home today. Painting, grass cutting and out of tune singing to 1980's hits the top of my agenda. If not singing along to music on Pulse 80's FM, I tend to hum the base line of the 30+ year old refrain. The humming solution ordinarily manifesting... Continue Reading →
"Your/their hair need a right good cut!" An adage frequently delivered in my mother's rich Yorkshire dialect since my 1970's childhood. Mater's way of opining that as a consequence of neglectful grooming the individual she refers to looked a"Right scruffy bleeder."...... Whether it be a messy mullet, unkempt curtain hair, poorly groomed bouffant or a... Continue Reading →
..... Save up their money for a holiday, to Selsey Bill or Bracklesham Bay. They'll think about the future - when they'll settle down. Marry the girl with one on the way...... A verse of Paul Weller prose written in the late 1970's, from The Jam's track Saturday's Kids. Just one example of the songwriter's numerous thought provoking anti-establishment... Continue Reading →
Tomorrow it'll be 29 years since I walked down the aisle of a County Durham church with my new wife. To mark the occasion, I thought I'd pen a few memories from that unforgettable service of betrothal. which I recollect as follows:- On this sunny September morn, my Best Man (my brother Ian) and I arrived slightly late... Continue Reading →
Although not officially autumn until 22nd September, there was a noticeable autumnal chill yesterday evening in West Yorkshire. It's looking more and more like the meteorological gods aren't going to bequeath the UK with anything remotely akin to summer weather in 2017. It's citizens perhaps not even deriving the consolation of an Indian summer..... Well, unless they travel to India in... Continue Reading →
Like most individuals, I find the current posturing and rhetoric emanating from North Korea and the USA distasteful and deeply disturbing. Witnessing these scenes on yesterday's news bulletins, and mulling over their potential consequences, brought to mind a 1980 public information film (PIF) on surviving a nuclear attack. Before proceeding, I want to clarify I find nothing remotely humorous about nuclear war, or... Continue Reading →