Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
In lockdown my brother Ian and adult son Jonathon, the brood's musicians, have both picked up their acoustic guitars for the first time in years. My son didn't actually play his instrument on picked it up, it was raised from it's stand to undertake a heavy handed flattening of a spider on his spare room... Continue Reading →
To utilise urban patois, this afternoon the West Yorkshire sun is cracking the flags. If yours truly could muster enough enthusiasm to paint his current garden view, the spectator of the final oil based vision would be bequeathed an aesthetically pleasing horticultural landscape. This sight incorporating a manicured emerald lawn, sandstone retaining wall, along with... Continue Reading →