Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
It is two months since the summer solstice and the UK is hurtling towards autumn like a thoroughbred horse released from race stalls. The midday sun gets ever lower, solar rays are markedly cooler and I’ve started frantically searching my house for my portable central heating thermostat. The control box not required just yet, but... Continue Reading →
Last week we in the UK, along with several northern hemisphere countries, were ‘lucky’ enough to witness a partial solar eclipse. Northern Spain, Northern Russia, Greenland and Iceland even ‘luckier’ when becoming party to a full sun blockage. Bereft of special filtered sunglasses, making it safe to look directly at this infrequent astronomical event, I... Continue Reading →
As highlighted in my blog The Beagle With The Seagull, I recently re-homed a beagle hound. Six weeks of providing shelter, poop picking, feeding, and walking the capricious hound have taught me a valuable lesson… I should have rehomed a budgie!... Only kidding, I would not swap Bella for the world. Unless of course the... Continue Reading →
Last Thursday, endeavouring to address a recent indifference towards and break from writing, I participated in a writers 'Open Mic' evening in Harrogate. This clambake afforded eleven fellow authors and myself opportunity to showcase our literary wares. The event offering its audience a tempting mix of poetry, thought provoking and irreverent fiction, along with comedic... Continue Reading →
I was interested to learn it was World Naked Gardening Day last week. I’ve not undertaken any real research on the matter, but I’d venture this celebration isn’t openly embraced by this sceptred isle’s gardeners. Us ordinarily reserved Brits leaving that sort of exhibitionism to individuals from more uninhibited countries. Incidentally, when I write ‘I’ve... Continue Reading →
Last Sunday afternoon, as the boxer shorts I’d worn all camping weekend walked themselves to my laundry basket, yours truly hopped into an invigorating shower. Despite being piping hot, and receiving able assistance from a fragrant shower gel, the water’s mission of relieving me of three-day old grime proved a challenge. Mercifully, though, due to... Continue Reading →
Two weeks into the Trump presidency and it’s all kicking off stateside. The Shitkicker King taking little time to become schoolground bully, attempting to steal Canada, Greenland, and Panama’s lunch money. As a non-American I’d love to watch these scenes across the pond with indifference. Let the red necks, 30-year-old virgins, gun freaks, and ill-educated... Continue Reading →
In one of his trademark offbeat observations on the BBC TV gameshow ‘Would I Lie To You?”, likeable funny man Bob Mortimer claimed the distant memories he was about to recount were like “Fingerprints on an abandoned handrail.” This humorous, but idiosyncratic, observation describing how he only had vague memories of the absurd yarn he... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening I attended an Open Mic evening at a chic Harrogate eatery. To clarify, an Open Mic night isn't attending a event to be entertained by a candid fellow called Michael... Unless, of course, the amateur turn is a forthright chap called Michael... In which case, you are attending an Open Mic evening presented... Continue Reading →