Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
This morning a COVID-19 related notion popped into my conscious thought which, following a couple of circuits around my neurological corridors, I deemed worthy of mention in despatches. This not an epiphany of a magnitude which'll illuminate this prevailing dark global landscape. My coronavirus 'lightbulb moment' not something useful, such as a suggested vaccine for... Continue Reading →
With energy levels dropping like a listing helium balloon, today I required a post-midday nap to unearth yours truly's cloaked dynamism. Prior to venturing down this rambling road, I wish to point out at this juncture, I've not got, or at any point displayed, any COVID-19 symptoms. Also for the record, this brief catnap provided... Continue Reading →
It'd be fair to observe that prevailing global events adorn a hat named darkly surreal. In varying degrees of severity, these day terrors tainting most of human existences worldwide. This unchartered landscape, impacting everyone's lives in such epic proportions that if experienced during night terrors would be disregarded as too fantastical to countenance as possible.... Continue Reading →
This weekend, I furloughed my Sky Sports subscription. An adjudication which'll no doubt be a cost saving strategy employed by a majority of subscribers to this satellite/cable TV conduit. Whatever situation gave birth to the adage 'It's a no-brainer', it couldn't possibly have made a stronger case for it's adoption than my actions on Sunday.... Continue Reading →
Yesterday it was spectral to witness aerial news footage, which I assume was recorded by drone (or perhaps an incredibly strong pigeon), broadcasting prevailing scenes at Venice's St Marks Square and nearby canal system. Clapping eyes on such a historically significant city, whose iconic architectural canvas is now bereft of human colour, drove home (if... Continue Reading →
Four general knowledge laden hours passed. An inquisitional tarry undertaken by six northern Englishmen; bonded by decades of acquaintance, fondness of the creative and incriminating photos. Despite quizzical feuding for 240 minutes, or so, the contest concluding with no identifiable winner of any of the segmental battles, or the ultimate war. A disorganised hotchpotch of... Continue Reading →
With the COVID wrecking ball's Mexican Wave continuing it's circumnavigation of the globe, life in this Wyndhamesque post-apocalyptic landscape lingers unabated. With the world bereft of a scientific counteragent, the pathogen making hay following its Faustian selling of soul to Beelzebub. A stark metaphorical pact granting coronavirus carte blanche to proceed with its grim agenda.... Continue Reading →
In COVID induced lockdown, visits into my garage have emerged as a walk of shame for yours truly. Bereft of access to bottle banks, glass wine containers have built up to such an extent, while passing during odysseys to the fridge, it feels like I'm running a gauntlet of carafe contempt. Feeling I'm being negatively... Continue Reading →
At the advent of this prose, an azure sky envelopes my West Yorkshire domain. Birdsong the only aural interjection of utter silence..... Oh, hold on, one of the neighbours has just started using his rotary saw. It's an idiosyncratic way of cutting the lawn, but the appliance cost him a fortune so he aims to... Continue Reading →