Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
On opening the Strachan advent calendar door number four this morning I was greeted by the souls of the oppressed. Although affable enough souls, particularly when you take into account the terrible suffering they've endured, I'm beginning to hold misgivings about investing in Torture magazine's festive calendar***. Todays's bestowal as equally disturbing as the Fingernails of... Continue Reading →
I'm writing this life chronicle in a rural village four miles south of market town Thirsk, North Yorkshire. Apparently farmland on the periphery of this cottage, where I'm residing for a few days, former working haunts of veterinary/author James Herriot. The vet/penman whose series of books were heavily inspired by epiphanies sourced by real-life interactions... Continue Reading →
I'm back in East Ardsley, West Yorkshire, after an enjoyable few days break residing in a lodge at Heysham on the Lancashire coastline. This pleasant enough town, an Irish Sea port for ferries to the Isle of Man and Ireland, which although accessible by road not wardrobe I've been unreliable assured is twinned with Narnia. Thankfully,... Continue Reading →
Over the years I've put pen to paper (or typed text to Word document) in a variety of locations. Some the more pleasing environments of European holiday destinations, the kaleidoscopic garden at my Leeds home, along with my Uncle Arthur's orangery which has stunning views of the Great Wall of China....... Incidentally, the latter is... Continue Reading →
I visited Wales for the first time over the weekend. At over 50 years of age, my inaugural sojourn to a nation the Welsh dub 'lad of my fathers' long overdue. This tardiness at sampling the domain famed for dragons, leeks and daffodils consequential of my preference to holiday at the nearer beach resorts; predominantly on... Continue Reading →
This is my second attempt at commencing today's narrative. The hundred or so words I originally penned disappearing into an e-ether after, while hindered by having to wax lyrical on my mobile phone instead of laptop, inadvertently deleted the draft. They say a bad workman blames his tools. However, in my case earlier, it was... Continue Reading →
This evening, I was originally planning to go see Hugh Jackman's Greatest Showman performance at the O2 Arena, in London. The two tickets purchased as a Christmas gift for my wife who adores the Antipodean performer; along with a one night Docklands hotel stay and the booking of return train tickets to/from the capital. That... Continue Reading →
With my wife Karen currently spending time in County Durham caring for her recently widowed dad, I'll be home alone this week. A time I aim to spend constructively by waxing lyrical, scratching around and nattering over Emu's fate since Rod Hull's untimely demise. My wife's home town Birtley located just south of the Angel... Continue Reading →
After a hectic few weeks of adventuring by train to gigs, historic cities, international cricket games, and basking in the stunning Lakeland scenery, I'm happy to report I've quieter few days ahead. Writing, along with the maintenance of two family gardens thus far being my only scheduled activities for this week. I'm unsure as to... Continue Reading →