Customer is King?

Six days after my central heating boiler started leaking, today an engineer is at last attending casa Strachan to (hopefully) repair the dripping box. Consequential of warranty red tape, ie the installer not sending it to the appliance manufacturer, the progress of securing a gas fitters service has been sloth like. Sadly, the swiftness companies…

Adieu To Grandad Jack’s Ladders

Today’s chronicle is the first I’ve had the opportunity to pen for three days. Far more important existential events have required my attention in the previous 72 hours than sitting self-indulgently crafting prose. Anyhow, yours truly is back with quill and parchment, more as a mental health efficacy than any enthusiasm to wax lyrical. At…

Tales From The Tearoom

As a club cricketer over three decades, today I’m moved to pen a soupçon of club cricket tearoom recollections. A between innings undertaking which’s for generations predominantly lain in the hands of amateur cricketer’s wives, mums and girlfriends. Warm-hearted volunteers giving up their summer Saturday afternoons, ensuring attending teams/crowd are provided with sustenance, a warm smile and the occasional rollocking…

VCR Memories

This morning, in preparation for the arrival of a garbage skip later this week I’ve undertaken the stress busting task of smashing up a single bed with a lump hammer. Like pounding a punch bag, which I undertook during circuit sessions when pre-COVID gym visits were allowed, it’s a chore bequeathing an immeasurable lightening of…

Victory Despite The Distractions

As alluded to in yesterday’s narrative Variety Show, last night was Zoom quiz evening. Three hours during which seven like minded fellows engaged in inquisitorial combat. It’s victor afforded the spoils of a half empty 2 litre bottle of Castrol GTX motor oil and a bag of scampi that’d lain unloved for 17 years in…

Creaking

This morning, upon opening door 17 of the Strachan advent calendar, I was startled when confronted by a sharp creaking sound. Uncertain of its source, I concluded the noise had either emanated from my yet to warm up middle aged limbs, or was a consequence of rusty calendar door hinges. With the festive adornment’s cardboard composition,  I swiftly…

Familial Xmas Traditions

It’s 16th December and the festive feel in chez Strachan is slowly intensifying. And, to be honest, how can GJ Strachan not be flushed with yuletide esprit when greeted by the word ‘Bollocks’ from behind window 16 of a Tourettes advent calendar bequeathed by son Jonny? Augmenting yuletide spirit further, the unmistakable redolence of spilled…

I’m Dreaming Of A S***e Christmas

At reveille this morning I lay in bed mulling over what the upcoming festive season on Planet COVID would bequeath. Amongst these notions, GJ Strachan attempted to recall how Christmas advents played out prior to my 2019 health issues, marriage split and the coronavirus pandemic. This act of recollection causing me to look back as…

One, Two, Tree

Following yesterday’s efforts by her attention-seeking elder son, Mrs Strachan senior’s Christmas tree now stands imposingly in the front room bay window of her West Yorkshire abode. The artificial evergreen bringing a much needed hint of festive cheer and chromatic hue to the octogenarian’s lounge. Reading my previous sentence, some may suggest after penning artificial there’s…