Backtracking

As lockdown protocols begin to ease in England, I suspect there’ll be individuals pondering how to diplomatically backtrack on their lockdown suggestions of “Let’s get together for a beer when this is all over.” In some cases, notions tendered to people disingenuously; foolish promises to acquaintances whose company they’d rather avoid. A friend falling into…

Half Mast

While my mother sits in her armchair watching today’s funeral of Prince Philip, The Duke of Edinburgh, I’ll be shredding a pile of documents in the matriarch’s kitchen. Like jet blasting muck from patios, yours truly find the wanton destruction of confidential documents a cathartic experience. The bank statements, tax code documents and delinquent insurance…

Crows Of The East

Endeavouring to reach the plateau of moving poetic prose my brother Ian produces in song lyrics, at the weekend I asked my younger sibling what his secret was. Misunderstanding to what I was alluding, Ian candidly responded his guilty secret was finding animated dog Scooby Doo adorable. Not wishing to dwell on this revelation, yours…

Respite

As I commence this prose, my brother Ian’s just left our mother’s home where he’s been providing me respite from carer to our mater. Him affording me a break from the caring role a huge fillip for his elder sibling. Another boon was my notoriously clumsy brother left the matriarchal gaff without breakage. An achievement…

When Maggie Nearly Met Lizzie

As I prepare to wax lyrical, my Saturday morning soundscape is Led Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’ accompanied by the sizzle of frying pork sausages. This gratifying aural backdrop augmented by the sound of my kid brother Ian chopping veg to add to the casserole he’s cooking for this evenings potlatch. Footnote – To clarify Led…

Run Maggie, Run

Following an upbeat bulletin from physiotherapists, within the last couple of hours my mum (Maggie) has exuded an esprit which’s understandably been missing of late. This infusion of verve manifesting from news her mobility, impacted by a stroke nine weeks ago, has improved enough she can now dispense with her zimmer frame indoors. After a…

An Unlikely Tale

I’ve just been unpacking a bulky new fridge which, when being shifted by GJ Strachan in isolation, felt so heavy and vast I wouldn’t have surprised me to learn it possessed it’s own zip code. Now unpacked and garage in situ, the huge silver coloured ‘construction’ now looking down on everything in its adjacent proximity….

Splendid Job

Sitting at the kitchen table, around a foot from my right ear the first of three loads of washing is undertaking its final spin. As you’d probably deduce, location within close proximity to this cacophony is hampering evoking blog topic notions. Nevertheless, being the stoic chronicler I am, I’ll soldier on despite this distraction. Construction…

Cutting Ties With Spats

It’s taken as read COVID-19 self-isolation isn’t an ideal situation in which to spend ones existence. Consequently, for one day only, I’ll not spout about folks disenchantment at deprivation consequential of coronavirus lockdown edicts. A literary strategy which’d deservedly expose me to criticism of condescension and ‘stating the bleeding obvious’ from accusers. Instead, yours truly…