Count To Ten, Gary!

The strain of being a full-time carer to my mother hit me yesterday evening, when I’d an unacceptable meltdown when my plans to watch the live rugby league game were derailed. Aspirations of unwinding in front of the Leeds Rhinos v Wigan Warriors game departing down the same avenue where Lord Lucan disappeared. The source…

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…

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

At 7.50 am this morning, yours truly’s was faffing around updating the aesthetics of my blogging website strachan.blog. Consequential of this electronic cosmetic dilly dallying, the domain now possesses a fresh look and feel. Now displaying rejuvenated screens with a new sky blue background and dark berry text. This electronic metamorphosis a process which’s undertaken…

It’s No Coco Chanel

Yesterday afternoon, while perambulating the perimeter of East Ardsley reservoir with Coco the lab, I passed a young couple (late 20s/early 30s) when something occurred to me. During this ephemeral moment, upon receiving a waft of the ladies perfume, it struck me I’ve not worn aftershave for over a year. Twelve months of prolonged isolation…

As They Were

Well, after three weeks of denial, the US Republican Party have green lighted the commencement of a presidential power transition to Joe Biden. This concession made despite Trump campaign lawyer Rudi Giuliani still endeavouring to unearth dead people who voted (not literally of course). His team seemingly also pursuing their batshit crazy conspiracy theories. It’s…

Control

In the early hours of this morning my West Yorkshire neighbourhood was awoken by a god awful commotion. This soundscape including the whirring of helicopter blades, police orders through a megaphone, yelling, interspersed by confrontational shouts of “F*** Off.”….. I tell you what, my mum becomes so melodramatic when I return home at 3am in…

Present Pedantry

Fifty plus years ago today, in a West Yorkshire maternity unit, I made my inaugural appearance on this dysfunctional planet. An unremarkable event which went much to plan, apart from an unexpected necessity of engaging a tattoo artist to cover up three sixes discovered on my bonce. This body art charlatan, charging my parents £20…

Poisonous Pathogen

It’s rare I dabble in the genre of poetry writing. I spent some of the summer of 2017 penning around 50 odd sonnets, but stopped when concluding the old school prose style I adopted when chronicling these verses was too self-indulgent for widespread appeal, Under these COVID-19 times, though, this evening I felt moved to…