Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred

Daily Journals From Deep Within A Capricious Mind

Tag Archive for ‘brother’

Punishment To Fit The Crime

Solar rays envelope large swathes of West Yorkshire as I write. The meteorological god Zeus finally turning off the celestial precipitation tap*** allowing me to finally get into the garden to undertake much needed maintenance. Not my own garden back in LS15, but the lawns and borders of my mother’s WF3 home. *** – I only hope Zeus isn’t on a water meter, otherwise this last week will’ve cost him […]

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Maternal Edicts

Last week I wrote a narrative (Barbershop Strop) during which I spoke of childhood visits to James Thow’s barbershop on Low Fell, Gateshead. During which I broached the topic of my mum’s obsession with her offspring’s locks being well kempt; more specifically an insistence it didn’t lay longer than collar length. My prose about 1970’s sojourns to the Geordie Vidal Sassoon touching upon how the maternal instructions to the barber pre-cut […]

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“Tonight’s Episode – Hear No Evil!”

This afternoon, a cool wind swirls around the grounds of casa Strachan, consequently the washing line in situ linen sways bewitchingly in my close proximity. A glimpse of the sheets gentle movement so calming it earlier hypnotized me into a drowsy state; a sensation I awoke from as a non-smoker……. That being said, I didn’t ‘light up’ prior to hypnosis by swaying linen, so I’d have been pretty miffed to […]

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Who Locked Grandad In The Loo?

On this day in mid-1960’s Kirskstall, Leeds my younger brother Ian made his appearance into the world. Born at home, our kid arrived shortly after the conclusion of the second Cassius Clay vs Sonny Liston fight. With Clay (latterly Muhammed Ali) winning by first round KO, Ian didn’t turn up on time to witness Liston being struck to the canvas by the Louisville Lip. Although I suspect, as a new-born […]

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You’ll Thank Me One Day!

“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 tousled chignon. Deeming that man is defined by first impressions, tidy hair was not only […]

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Watch Out For That Candle, Ian!

I have had the pleasure of my younger brother’s company at chez Strachan these last few days. Two years my junior, our Ian is renowned as an accident-prone chap who has smashed more crockery than a Greek restaurant waiter. Haphazard of nature, he is barred from every crockery outlet in the county of Tyne & Wear where he lives with his fiancee, a big pile of Royal Doulton china fragments and an over-worked dustpan and […]

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My Bruvver

Sitting in Colton McDonalds this morning I had an epiphany……or should that be a McEpiphany? It wasn’t the greatest epiphany I’ve ever had, but it made a pleasant breakfast change from a double sausage and egg McMuffin. Not that I begrudge it for one second, but I’m now undertaking the upkeep of my parent’s garden in addition to my own. In recent days my ex-bosses mantra of ‘work smarter not harder’ has occupied my mind. Consequently, I’ve been pondering […]

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