Post-heart attack I've unsurprisingly striven to avoid situations that'll raise my blood pressure. Consequently, I'm currently staying clear of listening to/watching Leeds United games, listening to/watching Leeds Rhino rugby league matches, exposure to England Test crickets encounters and (apart from writing) numerous other avenues of pleasure. I'm also attempting to stay clear of my wife … Continue reading Patience Required
Post-haircut, I'm writing this literary effort sitting outside of the Botanist pub on Boar Lane, Leeds. It's nippy out; however, keen to avoid legitimate observations like "Well go sit inside and sit where it's warm you pillock!", I'm reticent to complain about today's late winter chill To be honest, being well wrapped up against the … Continue reading Chilling in the Chill
Recollections of 1970's dental appointments bring to mind thoughts of oral torture chambers infused with odours of stale gas anaesthesia and the flatulence of nervous patients. Visits in which you'd open your mouth for treatment which'd be closely followed by a pain induced "Aaaaarrrrggghhh" - As opposed to the much calmer "Ah" associated with GP … Continue reading Mr Davidson’s Surgery
Last week I wrote a narrative containing untrustworthy recollections from my senior high schooldays in Low Fell, Gateshead. Within those memories I touched upon a sandwich shop called The Griddle - During my schooldays a 'go to' source for midday refreshment. In the 1970s/80s, this Durham Road deli was heavily patronised by Heathfield Senior High … Continue reading “Turkey Salad with Mayo Again?!”
These days having a hair cut is a fairly straight forward experience. On arrival, I'll sit in the barbershop waiting area until it's my turn to don a gown to protect against discarded hair. Once in the chair I'll relay the style of cut I desire, receive the aforementioned cut, pay and leave the premises. … Continue reading Barbershop Strop
It's Tuesday morning and GJ Strachan is suffering from a severe case of writers block. Annoyingly, the ordinarily creative segment of my brain currently bereft of an inspirational epiphany or notion. Even the memories of my Gateshead childhood, which have proved so fertile in the past week, thus far unable to produce a narrative topic … Continue reading The Saving Mr Banks
Today's rehabilitative exercise aimed at strengthening my post-cardiac arrest ticker was a bracing 45 minute walk around Colton village. Slowly but surely I'm attempting to raise my heart's exertion levels; as such today's amble was at a brisker pace than normal. Accompanied by late winter sunshine, it was a pleasant enough sojourn around the estate. … Continue reading Meander…. You Jane!