Yesterday, during discharge from hospital, a medic warned me to take things steady physically, along with avoiding situations that may trigger stressful responses. Well meaning advice key to GJ Strachan's speedier post-op recuperation. The need of which chronicled in greater depth in yesterdays blog 'Home at Last' - https://strachan.blog/2019/01/15/home-at-last/ Knowing the potential consequences of not... Continue Reading →
Home At Last
Yesterday evening, laying in the Leeds General Infirmary (LGI) bed which'd been my residence since a cardiac arrest last Friday morning, thoughts turned to how much I'd missed casa Strachan during this unscheduled tenancy. A quartet of dusks/dawns where I'd been deprived of numerous sensory comfort blankets. Simple experiences such as witnessing it's decorative contemporary... Continue Reading →
The Futility of Quackery
Frustratingly, the shortness of breath I was experiencing yesterday still envelopes me as I write. The amateur quackery I've undertaken to shake this off, including the use of Germolene antiseptic cream (a catch all remedy of my mater), thus far proved ineffective. My other attempted actions, the use of leeches, drinking hotter tea and the... Continue Reading →
Holding Back The Waves
Mercifully, this morning I feel in significantly better health than yesterday when I turned in at 8.30pm. A time when loosening catarrh caused my nose to stream so extravagantly I was in need of the nasal equivalent of the Hoover Dam. Sadly, as there's no such this as the nasal version of the Hoover Dam,... Continue Reading →
Tuffy Hardcase & The Rhum Deal
Thursday 17th May - I'm sat writing this monologue at the salon of my mum's hairdresser. My attendance here that of dutiful son patiently awaiting to drive his mater home post-haircut. Despite me being firmly entrenched in middle-age, mum feel moved to promise me a bag of M&S Peppa Pig candies if I'm a good... Continue Reading →
Going The Extra Mile
Tuesday 15th May - In the recent narrative Do I Cajole or Encourage? I wrote of my admiration for the runners of Sunday's Leeds Half-Marathon. Thousands of amateurs who as part of their training regular pound local streets and dales in all weathers. Meteorology that includes foreboding grey skies, bringing with them a 70% chance... Continue Reading →
Bulb Protection & Wembley Trophy Footballs
It's Monday 19th March 2018. The snow has melted and the oft suffering shrubs are enjoying respite from the ferocity of the now departed easterly gusts. Consequently, a rare serenity engulfs the back garden as the spring daffs, tulips and tete-a-tete's tentatively peer above soil as if to ask "Is it safe to come out... Continue Reading →
Dissing The Disease
Tomorrow morning I'll be partaking in a voluntary collection for Marie Curie cancer care. My presence a small contribution towards the raising of funds during the organisation's March Daffodil Appeal campaign. I experience a great deal of satisfaction being a foot soldier in the battalions fundraising the fight on numerous fronts against cancer. An odious,... Continue Reading →
Smoking Like A Fish
I wrote recently of my scepticism surrounding old wives tales. A mini diatribe not backed on any scientific fact, moreover sneering conclusions born from my ingrained middle-age cynicism. During that narrative, I carelessly omitted to touch on the comedic value of these superstitious folk tales, especially when misquoted. I'm alluding to mixed metaphors and idioms, which are inherently funny when delivered incorrectly. I have... Continue Reading →