Unforeseeable Circumstances

One of the bulletins attracting yours truly’s eye on Twitter this morning was a notice advertising the cancellation of a local psychic’s gig due to ‘unforeseeable circumstances’. I’ve no idea whether this was a spoof tweet or genuine notification. However, if it was a bona fide announcement it’s hard not to conclude the clairvoyant perhaps…

Witnessing Euphoria

Yesterday evening, in between writing an absurd ‘True or False’ round in preparation for tonights Zoom quiz with buddies, I watched two Sky Arts recordings of live concerts by multi million album selling bands. Both musical bonanzas performed by British groups in two historic and cosmopolitan European capital cities. Incidentally, this isn’t a riddle, I’m…

Hilda Chinwag

Yesterday, a family friend inquired about the creative process I follow while structuring fictional characters within narratives. They also enquired what time Binks’ butchers on Bradford Road shut on a Friday. I was able to answer the first question but, as I’m not a chuffing opening time directory, I told them they’d have to research the latter online……..

Hiatus

This, my 2514th narrative, will be the last blog I write for a while. My motivation to write these 500+ word daily essays has diminished of late and, perhaps metaphorically, Thursday’s post relating to my mother’s funeral seems a fitting juncture at which to draw a line under this particular literary odyssey – Well, for…

Morning Has Broken

“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,…

No Cigar

As I start this episode of GJ Strachan’s prevailing existence, an angry West Yorkshire breeze is doing it’s damnedest to blow the eight digitalis, which until yesterday stood vertically with sentry-like authority, into the next village. The gusts rendering flaccid the Plantaginaceae, which pre-zephyr proudly patrolled my borders with an upright gait. Sadly, now these foxgloves have acquired a…

A Challenge Too Far?!

Sitting at my garden patio table, sipping a cryogenically cold lemonade to combat a thirst worked up during my recent walk to the food store, I currently seek topic inspiration for this second blog of the day. Despite witnessing a chromatic canvas, courtesy of adjacent cottage garden shrubs to my left, epiphanies escape me. I…

Futile Grudges

This afternoon’s scheduled garden maintenance has been scuppered by the lower back trauma consequential of previous horticultural chores. Subsequently, I’m sitting at my patio table accompanied by an amalgam of laptop, sporadic muscle spasms and frustration one of my lockdown pastimes has been furloughed. If it wasn’t bad enough enduring COVID-19 induced lockdown, now I’m…

Menu Mayhem

The lower back trauma I wrote about in Gaining Groucho’s Gait, although significantly less uncomfortable, continues to plague me. Sporadic spasms when making sharp core movements reminding me the back injury still holds unwanted tenancy. The sprain’s eviction notice evidently not yet bearing fruit. Bereft of pain while sitting, or laying in bed, occasionally the…