Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Yesterday morning, I woke to a festive scene of a snow scattering in the village of East Ardsley, Wakefield. Despite the presence of winter sun, zero centigrade temperatures outside of my mother's house meant this covering wasn't in any great rush to abate. It's procrastination at melting requiring villagers to take extra care on ungritted roads and pavements. There wasn't a great deal... Continue Reading →
This morning, it was heart-warming to wake to a yuletide ambience in my modest three bedroomed West Yorkshire domicile. The consequence of a decorated Christmas tree, along with the lighting of cinnamon scented candles. To enhance the festive feeling, through the bay window, a squirrel has just jogged along my lower patio; prior to hopping over the fence into neighbour Mike's... Continue Reading →
There's been a paucity of activity in casa Strachan over the last day or two. Activities such as weekly shopping for provisions, watching the rugby league World Cup final on TV and writing a parody gig review titled Selsey Bill or Bracklesham Bay, Love? , being my sole accomplishments in the last 36 hours or so. I suppose I did make Saturday's evening... Continue Reading →
The overwhelming feelings of anger and frustration I felt between my father's passing and his funeral thankfully abated last week. I'm unsure what the catalyst was for this new found tranquillity, but it feels like my old man is perched on my shoulder advocating "Calm down, Gary! Anger is a futile emotion...... Oh, and can you put the Irish Lottery... Continue Reading →
On occasion the hardest thing I find when penning a blog is selecting a narrative subject. That short period of time when I tenaciously seek a topic which'll elicit between 500 – 700 of prose onto the blank page in front of me. Seeing I was creatively barren this morning, my wife Karen suggested I write about existentialised nimbolic... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, I ventured to the enchanting North Yorkshire spa town of Harrogate, our journey courtesy of the number 36 Ripon bus. It was a congenial sojourn in the comfort of leather upholstery seats with integrated USB port, personal table, free wifi and the affable tones of TV presenter Harry Gration informing passengers the location of each stop. During... Continue Reading →
Occasionally my wife displays a quirky side that, although unintentional, never fails to amuse. Be this the sporadic misnaming of celebrities, the naive innocence about certain ‘near the knuckle’ subjects or just an ill thought out, but nevertheless humourous, question. This morning she gave a perfect example of the latter as we sat discussing the subject of... Continue Reading →
Yesterday I wrote of all things philosophy. Well not all things, I mainly conveyed the fictional philosophical words of wisdom by an equally fictional Frenchman named Aidan Le Torche. Today I want to touch upon the lower end of philosophy market. I'm referring to old wives tales which, depending on your inclination, are advocated as... Continue Reading →