Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Scene - The morning of 25th December 2025. In the living room of a terraced mid-20th century built home, on the sofa/chaise, a middle-aged couple prepare to exchange yuletide gifts. Beneath the high ceiling typically witnessed in residences of this era, the male of the duo (Gary) catches sight of a huge wrapped present bearing... Continue Reading →
“Don't leave me this way. I can’t survive, can’t stay alive, without your love. Don’t leave me this way.” Those sentiments from an opening chorus of a Communards refrain are often communicated by my beagle Bella’s sad sideways glances when about to be left home alone. Yours truly's parting assurances of “I’ll not be long!”... 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 →
Every now and then when not wandering around my residence pondering why I don’t cast a reflection in mirrors, yours truly revisits narratives penned during COVID lockdown. Scores of my diarised vignettes, published on my website, providing retrospective insights into my thoughts and deeds under the pandemics grip. A time when I assume the mantle... Continue Reading →
Easter Saturday bequeathed West Yorkshire's populace warm(ish) Bank Holiday temperatures. Consequently, yours truly ventured out to take in a local league cricket match. A game which, although not partaking for over a decade, I played my mid-teens to the cusp of middle-age. Cricket a game of which I've written about on numerous occasions, in particular... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening I attended an Open Mic evening at a chic Harrogate eatery. To clarify, an Open Mic night isn't attending a event to be entertained by a candid fellow called Michael... Unless, of course, the amateur turn is a forthright chap called Michael... In which case, you are attending an Open Mic evening presented... Continue Reading →
For fifty plus springtides the middle Sunday in March afforded my siblings (Ian, Helen) and me opportunity to bestow a well-earned thank you to our much-loved mum (Maggie). A warm, funny, caring, and loving parent who, along with our equally admirable father, ensured our fledgling years were awash with encouragement, positivity, laughter, and security. The... Continue Reading →
“There's a sad sort of clangingFrom the clock in the hallAnd the bells in the steeple, tooAnd up in the nurseryAn absurd little birdIs popping out to say ca-coo(ca-coo ca-coo)” The opening gambit to a refrain from The Sound of Music movie. An aria performed as a fond adieu by the Von Trapp family to... Continue Reading →
This morning my usually fertile mind is utterly bereft of blog topic ideas. A fuzzy head from overdoing celebration birthday drinks for girlfriend Sarah’s aunt a contributing factor towards this epiphany impotence. Yesterday’s shindig taking place within the boundaries of West Yorkshire’s borough of Horbury. Horbury, or ‘Orbury as Sarah refers to it in her... Continue Reading →