Christmas preparations continued apace in chez Strachan today, with my wife Karen provisionally booking a perennial visit by ghosts of Christmas past, present and future on Christmas Eve night. An annual occurrence deemed necessary by my missus for my redemption after a year of being less than chirpy. Hopefully, when the spectres arrive bearing Christmas fear we won’t have a repeat…
Tag: inspiration
Not About The Renaissance
My recent run of being delayed in commencing a daily monologue reoccurred again today. The start of my literary venture delayed until around 4.40pm, as a consequence of a pressing voluntary work appointment, along with later prolonged Internet connectivity problems with my laptop. As is the case with most of my yarns, I’ve no idea…
Caution, Surprises & Contemplation
The low winter sun and icy conditions necessitated a cautious drive to East Ardsley this morning. Regardless of the copious amounts of grit on main roads and highways, with temperatures outside hovering around zero centigrade, heedfulness was the watchword. Yours truly’s venture 10 miles south-west was to taxi the old lady to her long-suffering hairdresser. An unfortunate crimper who has the unenviable task of styling mater’s…
It’s Turned Out Nice Again
If you’re in the fortunate position to fulfil this option, today’s a day to stay indoors with the central heating on full, a Christmas movie or two on TV, along with partaking in an unseemly scrap with the rest of the household over who gets to wrap themselves in the sofa’s throw. The latter a family tradition…
What The Dickens Are You On About?!
Yesterday morning, I woke to a festive scene of a snow scattering in the village of East Ardsley, Wakefield. Despite the presence of winter sun, zero centigrade temperatures outside of my mother’s house meant this covering wasn’t in any great rush to abate. It’s procrastination at melting requiring villagers to take extra care on ungritted roads and pavements. There wasn’t a great deal…
A Winter’s Tale
This morning, it was heart-warming to wake to a yuletide ambience in my modest three bedroomed West Yorkshire domicile. The consequence of a decorated Christmas tree, along with the lighting of cinnamon scented candles. To enhance the festive feeling, through the bay window, a squirrel has just jogged along my lower patio; prior to hopping over the fence into neighbour Mike’s…
Have You Seen My Slippers, Karen?
There’s been a paucity of activity in casa Strachan over the last day or two. Activities such as weekly shopping for provisions, watching the rugby league World Cup final on TV and writing a parody gig review titled Selsey Bill or Bracklesham Bay, Love? , being my sole accomplishments in the last 36 hours or so. I suppose I did make Saturday’s evening…
Selsey Bill or Bracklesham Bay, Love?
….. Save up their money for a holiday, to Selsey Bill or Bracklesham Bay. They’ll think about the future – when they’ll settle down. Marry the girl with one on the way…… A verse of Paul Weller prose written in the late 1970’s, from The Jam’s track Saturday’s Kids. Just one example of the songwriter’s numerous thought provoking anti-establishment…
Extortion On Eastwood Gardens
The Australian national anthem is blasting out in the corner of the living room as I commence this literary portrayal. To clarify, the playing of Advance Australia Fair isn’t a precondition of me writing a blog, it resonates around my living room as a proviso to the England v Australia rugby international that is playing out on my TV….