Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Keen to avoid depressing analysis of my footballing amours Leeds United's (LUFC) insipid start to the season, in the last couple of days BBC Radio 2's breakfast show has been GJ Strachan's reveille listen of choice instead of my usual morning listen of talkSport. Presenter Zoe Ball's affable brand of chat and hit music from... Continue Reading →
"Morning has broken, like the first morning; blackbird has spoken, like the first bird." What better way to start my new week than singing the uplifting inaugural lines of a traditional hymn..... Well, apart from perhaps fragrant Aussie actress Margot Robbie bringing me breakfast in bed. Which with all due respect to the refrain's author,... Continue Reading →
With my troubled bonce laid on pillow, a soundscape of incidental Cuban music from US drama Dexter, flashing lights from the TV broadcast producing kaleidoscopic flashes on the ceiling, last night my least 'rock and roll' Friday evening for a while played out in front of me. Actually, who am I kidding!..... It's bloody years... Continue Reading →
A fragrant redolence of lavender accompanies me while penning today's literary output in Mally's Bar (the garden patio area I've named after my late father) . Its source, you'll be unamazed to learn, a lavender bush situated around two feet to my left. This pleasant bouquet soon to be enhanced further by six (soon to... Continue Reading →
In yesterday's blog Grand Designer, I touched upon the thorny topic of god's existence. A debate fed by a toxic existential brew of prevailing discontent borne from a painful ligament injury,, challenges of being my mother's full-time carer, life under COVID, along with some pretty unpalatable life events encountered within the last decade . Footnote... Continue Reading →
I feel moved to enter the idiom 'It is what it is' at some point within today's narrative. As this journal is a literary riff, only time will tell whether yours truly fulfils that aspiration. Although, as the oft used saying is actually present in the first sentence of this narrative, I guess by definition... Continue Reading →
I'm currently making the most of sitting in an environment of rare serenity in chez Strachan. For the first time in a week I'm writing a blog without a distracting background soundscape, such as the murmur of daytime TV, nor the thunderous snoring of my mother or Coco (the canine buddy I'm dog sitting until... Continue Reading →
A pleasant stroll around Ardsley reservoir with Coco provided this mornings raison d'être for yours truly. My little Labrador buddy and I making the most of cooler mid morning temperatures to complete a circuit of the Wakefield parkland. Our slow perambulation around the lake's 1.5 mile circumference allowing the inquisitive canine time to explore every... Continue Reading →
I'm finding the writing process more challenging and significantly less cathartic of late. The strain of being a full-time carer for my mum, and having to write in sporadic spurts due to higher priority chores, diminishing the esprit ordinarily imparted by penning prose. In particular, I'm finding writing in my favoured genre of whimsy tough... Continue Reading →