Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Consequential of my car undergoing an annual MOT test, GJ Strachan is scribing today's literary offering on the road. As writing while highway in situ or driving a vehicle with laptop on knee is wantonly reckless, it goes without saying my penning 'on the road' revelation shouldn't be taken literally. I'm, of course, inferring these... Continue Reading →
With audible similarities to an aardvark sandpapering a brandy barrel (trust me, I know), the soundscape accompanying the commencement of this blog is Deano the Lhasa Apsop's rasping snore. Little Lord Avashight (as I tend to nickname the diminutive scamp) laid snoozing on the sofa a few feet from my scribing perch. My view that... Continue Reading →
Thirty two years ago tomorrow I became a father for the first time when my son Jonathon joined the cast of this reality show called life. A rollercoaster of a gig my boy has thus far weathered relatively well; arriving into adulthood as an engaging and grounded young man of whom I'm immensely proud. Never... Continue Reading →
As a gift for his 32nd birthday, I've procured tickets for my son Jonny and me to attend Yorkshire county cricket club's fixture with Durham in a T20 Blast game at Headingley. As he lives around 50-60 miles from the venue in North Yorkshire (I live the other side of Leeds from the ground), due... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening yours truly carelessly fell asleep in bed while still chewing gum. With the gum dropping out of my drooling unconscious gob, luckily jeopardy from choking was negated; however, it's fair to say, being a very hairy fella I didn't emerge from this incident unscathed. With an accompaniment of hair follicles being torn unforgivingly... Continue Reading →
As I scribe today's literary offering, gazing aimlessly through slightly ajar French doors it's thought provoking to witness the juxtaposition provided by prevailing heavy rain. This late spring deluge yours truly's current land and soundscape while impatiently awaiting inspiration for today's topic. On one hand, unless you're a farmer or living with long standing drought... Continue Reading →
Substitute Laura Ingalls skipping through a wheat field with the short legs of a Lhasa apso endeavouring to navigate a way through overgrown park grass, and yesterday's dog walk provided scenes not unlike the iconic starting credits of Little House on the Prairie. The sheer joy on Deano's face certainly compared with the young girl's... Continue Reading →
One of the bulletins attracting yours truly's eye on Twitter this morning was a notice advertising the cancellation of a local psychic's gig due to 'unforeseeable circumstances'. I've no idea whether this was a spoof tweet or genuine notification. However, if it was a bona fide announcement it's hard not to conclude the clairvoyant perhaps... Continue Reading →
It's pretty quiet within the hallways and chambers of chez Strachan as I write. Apart from sporadic creaking of French doors courtesy of a late spring zephyr, along with an audio of Deano (aka Lord Avashight) the Lhasa apso licking his paws, there's an almost hypnotic hush accompanying my scribing. Sure, the light breeze is... Continue Reading →