Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Recently I enrolled upon a course of Zoom based writing workshops. These delightful clambakes giving me an opportunity to engage with like-minded individuals who share my love of penmanship, or penwomanship in the case of other participants. Incidentally, despite yours truly's spell checker stating penwomanship isn't a genuine word, as penpersonship receives similarly negative responses... Continue Reading →
The thin gruel provided from living a COVID lifestyle wears particularly heavy today. A mood that's diminished further from just witnessing England cricketer Jonny Bairstow losing his wicket in India. My fellow Yorkshireman holing out in the deep while six runs short of what would've been an accomplished century. Although, on a positive note, as... Continue Reading →
I'm commencing this narrative while on telephone hold to the HMRC. This necessitated by the revenue collectors, who in their wisdom have cocked up my Tax Code; looking like I'll have to send them the shirt off my back..... Thank god I've more than one shirt. Thus far I've been waiting 25 minutes for an... Continue Reading →
My aural backdrop while today's lyricals are being waxed is a screeching, attention seeking wood pigeon; along with the distant rumble of tyres on the M62 motorway. Despite the latter's westbound traffic heading towards several recently locked back down areas, that asphalt corridor seemingly still bustles with Lancashire bound traffic. Mercifully, the pigeon has just... Continue Reading →
Peering aimlessly outdoors from my mother's dining room, I've just witnessed a black cat saunter arrogantly past the French doors towards wood fencing panels bordering the garden of castle Strachan senior. Strutting with a vain-glorious surety akin to how the late Queen singer Freddie Mercury owned the stage in his pomp, Sadly, unlike Frederick, the... Continue Reading →
I don't often write of serendipity. Not because I don't have pleasant surprises now and again. After all, what could be more serendipitous than my receipt of Anthony Worrell-Thompson underpants for Christmas.......... That's a brand by the way. They weren't actually Anthony's undies! .............. I bloody hope not anyway! My wee spouse Karen often... Continue Reading →