Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
As part of the seemingly endless destructive global meteorological events, Storm Brian paid us a visit yesterday. We didn't invite 'old Bri', however, on Friday evening BBC Look North's Paul Hudson (other weather presenters are available) mentioned to expect him. He also recommended that if Brian did turn up it would be prudent to hide the single malt whisky. Bri's... Continue Reading →
Although not officially autumn until 22nd September, there was a noticeable autumnal chill yesterday evening in West Yorkshire. It's looking more and more like the meteorological gods aren't going to bequeath the UK with anything remotely akin to summer weather in 2017. It's citizens perhaps not even deriving the consolation of an Indian summer..... Well, unless they travel to India in... Continue Reading →
This morning I opened the bedroom curtains to be greeted by a little seen spherical object overhead. Mustard of colour, it bequeathed a comforting warmth to my unshaven face and equally hirsute chest. Through tired eyes, I assumed either the sun had made a welcome return, or Laa Laa had been filled with helium again by his mischievous Teletubby friends. After... Continue Reading →
Despite it still being March, yesterday's pleasant West Yorkshire temperatures allowed for our family Mother's Day roast dinner to be consumed alfresco. The sunny temperate weather enabling my wife, adult children, my parents and I to sit comfortably at the patio table, whilst we chewed the fat...... I knew I should have bought a leaner cut of meat! Only kidding, the... Continue Reading →
When you reside in the United Kingdom, there has to be an acceptance (begrudged or otherwise) of the unpredictability of its temperate climate. Our summers are unlikely to bequeath us sustained periods of sunshine. However, on the flip side, unless you live in Frank the butcher's walk in freezer, winters are ordinarily milder than those... Continue Reading →
A year ago today, Storm Imogen spitefully ravaged large areas of England and Wales. Causing devastation in her wake, the high maintenance Immy's attention seeking ensured her hissy fit received nationwide recognition, via numerous TV news appearances........... All this because her hubby Ian wouldn't buy her that little black number from Harvey Nicks! On witnessing... Continue Reading →
As we hurtle towards February, like a 5th century Byzantine fleeing Attila the Hun, temperatures have taken a dip in Blighty. The chill isn’t anywhere near as severe as a Canadian winter or the welcome you get at my wife’s parents house. However, winter feels as though it's finally taken hold of our sceptre isle. The cold... Continue Reading →
As we hurtle relentlessly towards ‘Christmas Day’, this morning's winter sky exhibited a greyness akin to that John Major’s Prime Ministership in the 1990’s. Like the former Tory leader, the prevailing meteorological conditions were undemonstrative, dank, middle of the road and uninspiring. However, unlike JM (as his monogrammed handkerchief knows him), there has been no hanky panky... Continue Reading →
It's Sunday morning and the weather has finally got its act together. It's good to look out onto my garden and see this meteorological change resulting in the daffodils, primulas, grape hyacinths and forget me nots taking on an altogether more upbeat body language. There is a kaleidoscopic display on show in the borders this... Continue Reading →