Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
My website provider WordPress this morning reminded me today is this 4th anniversary of me setting up my website writesaidfred.org . A domain I created for the purpose of sharing the blogs I'd commenced writing at that juncture of my life. Outlets from the more challenging aspects of my life, including my wife's incurable cancer... Continue Reading →
On Saturday I heard a statistic that in 2018 more people applied to participate on TV reality show Love Island (UK version) than did to attend a university. A fact yours truly wishes I could say surprised me. Blindsided me as it entered my conscious mind, prior to wandering off to be filed under a... Continue Reading →
I'm sat with the missus in one of the oncology unit waiting rooms of a Leeds Teaching Hospital. A four weekly jaunt we undertake so the 'trouble and strife' can undergo her monthly treatment. As the moment there's only the two of us residing in the 'linger lounge'. A couple of seats to my left... Continue Reading →
As I write, my wife Karen is watching the QVC channel. With no sign of a phone within her close vicinity I'm hoping it's merely for research purposes, not with a view to impulse buy a product we really don't need. Something, we're been guilty of when under the hypnotic influence of cable shopping channels.... Continue Reading →
Yesterday my wife Karen and me took an early evening saunter into Leeds city centre. Our mission, should we choose to accept it (which we did), a cheeky little drink accompanied with an even more brazen meal. Our late afternoon eatery of choice the Harvey Nichols Brassiere, where we sampled a touch of the elegance... Continue Reading →
Today's literary effort sees the third in a trilogy of tongue in cheek narratives surrounding my attendance at Heathfield Senior High School on Low Fell, Gateshead. Sadly for the reader, my trinity of completed works isn't as entertaining as, say, the original Star Wars or Back to The Future trilogies. In my defence, though, I'm... Continue Reading →
Today is the first day since being discharged from hospital that I've felt less energetic than the previous day. Enveloped in a veil of lethargy, currently my only desire is to rest in my recuperative slumber pit, attempting to try coax out that errant vitality. Unlike in the nursery rhyme Hickory, Dickory, Dock, when casa... Continue Reading →
Behind today's advent calendar door is another trip to St James' Hospital, this time for my wife's monthly oncology treatment. Yesterday's bone scan went without incident for the stoic Birtley lass; although the results won't be known for a week or so yet. Hearing I was yet again en route to a Leeds medical establishment,... Continue Reading →
Friday evening saw Mrs S and yours truly sitting in Block 104 of the first direct Arena, Leeds. Our venture's motive to witness one Richard Paul Astley from the manor of Newton-le-Willows entertain us and 13,000 others with a night of pop and contemporary refrains. As I've written previously, my wife Karen has an endearing... Continue Reading →