Recollections of 1970's dental appointments bring to mind thoughts of oral torture chambers infused with odours of stale gas anaesthesia and the flatulence of nervous patients. Visits in which you'd open your mouth for treatment which'd be closely followed by a pain induced "Aaaaarrrrggghhh" - As opposed to the much calmer "Ah" associated with GP … Continue reading Mr Davidson’s Surgery
It's Tuesday morning and GJ Strachan is suffering from a severe case of writers block. Annoyingly, the ordinarily creative segment of my brain currently bereft of an inspirational epiphany or notion. Even the memories of my Gateshead childhood, which have proved so fertile in the past week, thus far unable to produce a narrative topic … Continue reading The Saving Mr Banks
Earlier today I published a narrative bequeathing it's discerning reader unreliable anecdotes from my junior high schooldays. These notions manifesting from the depths of my capricious mind; embellished by fictional addendums sourced from a neurological chamber with a door titled 'Random'. Breckenbeds Junior High on Saltwell Road in south Gateshead the subject of that ramble. … Continue reading Breckenbeds Fields Forever?
Today's literary effort sees the third in a trilogy of tongue in cheek narratives surrounding my attendance at Heathfield Senior High School on Low Fell, Gateshead. Sadly for the reader, my trinity of completed works isn't as entertaining as, say, the original Star Wars or Back to The Future trilogies. In my defence, though, I'm … Continue reading Duck!!
My wife Karen announced earlier it's rainbow trout for dinner tonight. I'm assuming she's referring to the fact we'll be consuming the fish species with colour reflecting scales. Aquatic craniate animal equally at home in salt or fresh water. Not that she's following a trout recipe from a cookbook written by Zippy, Bungle and George! … Continue reading Rainbow Climbing High
As I'm unable to drive until Friday, this morning my mum cadged a lift from family friend Jo to visit yours truly, her eldest offspring. No doubt frightened she's been missing out on something in the week and a bit since I last saw her, on arrival the old lady interrogated me at length about … Continue reading Bridge Over The River Aire
At the risk of turning this into a less accomplished Alan Bennett biscuit monologue, yesterday I became reacquainted with the joys of Rich Teas. A cookie pleasure I'd not experienced for decades, following the turning of my fickle heart and head by the enchantment of a chocolate Hob Nob. My Rich Tea relationship ending abruptly … Continue reading Forgotten Riches