Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
After a hectic few weeks of adventuring by train to gigs, historic cities, international cricket games, and basking in the stunning Lakeland scenery, I'm happy to report I've quieter few days ahead. Writing, along with the maintenance of two family gardens thus far being my only scheduled activities for this week. I'm unsure as to... Continue Reading →
Exhausting the superlatives utilised to describe the enchantment of the Lake District has it's challenges. In the absence of a better simile, the degree of difficulty in achieving the paucity of adjectives is akin to an inward high board dive incorporating a tuck, pike, along with a straight water entry. For centuries the aesthetic splendour... Continue Reading →
I'm penning this literary offering in the English Lake District. An area of aesthetic charm bequeathed to the eye from it's amalgam of rolling hills, quaint towns and some of our islands largest lakes south of Caledonia. A domain of slate roofed properties, Kendal Mint Cake and the only area in England where cuisine on... Continue Reading →
Yesterday I penned a narrative pertaining to a trip I took with friends last weekend to the Lake District. It was a summary of the exploits of nine middle aged men and was predominantly fictional/nonsense/absolute bollocks (delete where applicable). The trip was meticulously organised by our self appointed leader Darrin. He undertakes his role with... Continue Reading →
Take nine middle aged guys, four prescriptions of blood pressure tablets, five bottles of statins, three failing prostates, copious amount of beer, one urine sample in the fridge, two fry up breakfasts and an ambulance on standby. Then mix them all together in a chalet cottage in a picturesque Lake District town for the weekend. Add watching sport, heated political... Continue Reading →