Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
For fifty plus springtides the middle Sunday in March afforded my siblings (Ian, Helen) and me opportunity to bestow a well-earned thank you to our much-loved mum (Maggie). A warm, funny, caring, and loving parent who, along with our equally admirable father, ensured our fledgling years were awash with encouragement, positivity, laughter, and security. The... Continue Reading →
Yesterday my 2,500th blog was written to include partly fictional memories (based on fact) of my recently deceased mother Maggie. These unreliable, tongue-in-cheek recollections embellished with large swathes of silliness to bolster the jocularity of the plot lines. Finding a revisit of these literary vignettes cathartic during this emotionally draining time, I've decided to share... Continue Reading →
Earlier today I shared a trio of old blogs in tribute to my recently deceased mother - These partly fictional journals, based on fact, a record of the familial matriarch. Anyhow as I've a wealth of this type of reverential maternal insights, I thought I'd share another trinity of previously penned deferential posts. This piece... Continue Reading →
Today's literary offering is the 2,500th blog I've written and published on my website strachan.blog . To celebrate this achievement I enclose a trio of pieces from the scores I've penned about my recently passed mother Maggie during the six years since yours truly started scribbling these journals. The trinity of essays below are partly... Continue Reading →
Around midday yesterday the opening verse of Jimmy Osmond's 1972 hit 'Long Haired Lover From Liverpool' rang out in a West Yorkshire hospital ward for elderly ladies. Although memory didn't afford its performers with full lyric recollection any voids were filled with chirpy and reasonably melodic "La, la, la." substitutes. What the room's other five... Continue Reading →
Yesterday morning I took my mum for her second COVID jab. With Maggie suffering a stroke not long after receipt of the initial vaccination, I raised questions regarding potential jeopardy levels from a subsequent injection. Fears calmed by assurances there's more risk to the octogenarians's health by declining the coronavirus countering serum. Consequently, as West... Continue Reading →
On Sunday, my mother will reach the grand old age of 80. A milestone she's reached with her rose coloured glasses firmly intact; along with her viewing life events from a baseline of positivity. This despite more than her share of episodes where serendipity and karma have proved the most capricious of suitors. Mum (Maggie)... Continue Reading →
On occasion well-meaning notions can lead to the very opposite consequence as the well-meaner*** intended. For example, this morning my mum thoughtfully announced that on spring's dawning she proposed contacting a gardener to undertake chez Strachan's 2020 horticultural maintenance. *** - I'm unsure if the word(s) well-meaner exists. If it doesn't, though, I can't help but... Continue Reading →
Living back in the matriarchal abode has many challenges, one of which the regression back nearly half a century to experiencing admonishment for actions my mother finds irritating. This includes the incessant tapping of my fingers on the kitchen table, bad table manners and the increasing use of curse words, which in recent months have... Continue Reading →