Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
History tells us, well nursery rhymes submit anyhow, Old King Cole was a merry old soul who called for his pipe, he called for his bowl and he called for his fiddlers three. This trinity of desires seemingly keeping old Colers (as he was never known) in a chipper mood while whiling away the hours waiting... Continue Reading →
I've recently returned from the White Rose Shopping Centre (WRSC), in South Leeds, where I purchased a new printer upon which I intend to produce Word document copies of my daily narratives. At the cost of £19.99, this a gracious offer from monsieur WH Smith and his splendid stationery emporium. Quite perversely, the purchase price... Continue Reading →
I commence this essay sitting in the Costa coffee shop within the Next building at The Springs Retail Park, Leeds; a recently built construction which also incorporates a Gino D'Acampo*** restaurant. **** - Or Gino D'Campingstove as my spouse, with her quirky tic of mispronouncing celebrity surnames, incorrectly calls him..... Gino D'Acampo not to be... Continue Reading →
Wednesday AM - After today's habitual cordial exchange of "Good morning." on entering the kitchen, my mum held out her hand to show me a 5mm white disc and questioned "Is this one of your tablets, Gary?" This the first of what I expect will be numerous maternal enquiries of the day. That short seven word... Continue Reading →
It's rare I remember my dreams. This morning, though, a segment of last night's slumber visions remained with me until my waking hour. This sleep scene a rather dark encounter where, while within the dream I was penning a narrative in a coffee house, I was held at gunpoint by three 'desperados' with aspirations of... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, after witnessing numerous recent examples of Faceapp's predicted facial ageing of Facebook friends, intrigue got the better of me, moving me to download the app for myself. Some many opine my act of seeking how kind the ageing process may (or may not be) to yours truly was one of vanity. However, I'd maintain... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening my fan assisted oven decided to join its kitchen appliance buddies, the refrigerator and washing machine, with their recent decision to cease working. This inconvenient collective withdrawal of white goods labour all occurring in the past two weeks. Consequently at various junctures within the last fortnight Mrs S's laundry schedule has been disrupted,... Continue Reading →
In yesterday's narrative Happy Valley I touched upon some of the characters I worked with when starting my first job as a wet behind the ears sixteen year old boy***. Tales from the National Coal Board (NCB) north east area offices in Gateshead. *** - It was my fault as I'd not taken a brolly to counter... Continue Reading →
I have often walked down the street before But the pavement always Stayed beneath my feet before. All at once am I Several stories high Knowing I'm on the street where you live. Alan Jay Lerner's lyrics from the song 'On The Street Where You Live' from the 1956 musical stage production of My Fair... Continue Reading →