Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Easter Saturday has bequeathed West Yorkshire's populace warm(ish) Bank Holiday temperatures. Consequently, yours truly intends to venture out later to take in a local league cricket match. A game which, although not partaking for over a decade, I played for 30 years from my mid-teens. Cricket a game of which I've written about on numerous... Continue Reading →
Tomorrow (Friday) my brother Ian is scheduled to arrive in Wakefield, affording me two days/nights respite from caring for our mother Maggie. The matriarch living under a stark landscape poisoned by living with vascular dementia, along with post-stroke physical impairment. With this in mind, it was with some trepidation I awoke this morning to find... Continue Reading →
Day two of isolation amongst the Yorkshire Dales' aesthetically pleasing rural mural. My temporary residence, a 19th century cottage, hopefully my sanctuary from contracting the coronavirus. Misguidedly, I poetically like to think COVID-19 wouldn't dare darken the door of this idyllic setting with it's stark agenda, but it's clearly a notion of folly. Overnight, I've... Continue Reading →
Watching the prevailing global shenanigans brought forth by COVID-19 make me feel as though I've been transported into a post-apocalyptic scene within a John Wyndham book. A sentiment leading to notions it's only a matter of time before there'll be triffids terrorising the avenues and alleyways of our planet. That being said, it's not all... Continue Reading →