Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
It was an early dog walk this morning. My needy beagle/alarm clock Bella deciding a 6.40am stroll would be a splendid way to celebrate the dawning of 7th August 2026. This previous start not so much a case of the early bird catching the worm, more the early dog walker gets to pick up poop... Continue Reading →
Today sees another small step in my ongoing penmanship rehab. A further attempt to reinvigorate a passion for writing which has largely forsaken me since last December. A devotion waning in December 2025, after succumbed to a wave of self-doubt about my art; consequently becoming overwhelmed by lethargy and low-spirits. A malaise I’ve now resolved... Continue Reading →
I’ve not written much of late. For no apparent reason my mood has been low; draining any motivation to indulge in literary projects. Perversely, annoyance at myself for being in a low spirits for no reason has sent my mood even lower. It has got so bad, yesterday evening GJ Strachan had a word with... Continue Reading →
Sunlight sneaks through an adjacent window, kissing the upper petals of the white orchid adorning the features dusty sill. On a nearby kitchen table perches a middle-aged man, laptop afore him. Erratic of mood, he scans his immediate indoor landscape. Blue eyes darting between a full-size sculpture of a horse’s head, a three-dimensional hanging scooter... Continue Reading →
As a man afflicted by recurring depressive episodes in adulthood, it felt remiss not to reference yesterday’s World Mental Health Day. An event aimed at addressing inequalities in support and awareness surrounding the debilitating illnesses fitting under the cognitive impairment umbrella. The Mental Health Foundation mooting mental health is a universal human right. Amongst events... Continue Reading →
For a variety of reasons my literary output has diminished of late; as a consequence of this tardiness my mental health has tumbled like a latter-day Humpty Dumpty. With the art of penmanship acting as my goto anti-depressant, it's proved a foolish self-care strategy if ever there was one! As a result, from today I've... Continue Reading →
It's been a productive couple of days at chez Strachan. Included within these constructive episodes was a revamping of the downstairs bedroom back into a dining room. A reverse of this portal's adaptation last year following my mum's February stroke. This stark incident necessitating creation of a downstairs bedroom and wet room, enabling her ease... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening, following a splendid sausage pasta dinner swilled down by an agreeable flagon of pinot Grigio, I found myself watching dark US TV drama Dexter. As the plot lines surrounding the fictional Floridian serial killer evolved in front of me, for a brief juncture, the entertainment lily was gilded further by an accompanying YouTube... Continue Reading →
As I begin this chronicle I’ve just returned into my mothers care home room after vacating it while nurses undertook the matriarch's personal care. While standing out in the corridor, adjacent to Maggie’s chamber, Andrew Lloyd-Webber’s emotive hymn Pie Jesu played out from a neighbouring resident’s room. The refrain’s celestial nature, incorporating prayers to a... Continue Reading →