Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Last weekend I spent two nights at a campervan festival on the English/Welsh border. The almost constant sunshine, an enchanting Chester landscape and good company contributed to existing in forty eight hours of outdoor ambrosia. Re-reading the above paragraph, it has struck me that I'd no need to prefix Welsh with the word English. After... Continue Reading →
My breakfast of sausages are slowly baking in the oven as I commence this offering. Their destination, prior to entering my mush, two slices of brown bread sitting on a plate kitchen in situ. Ordinarily, I'd employ a swifter method of shallow frying during the food preparation process. A method that provides the added benefit... Continue Reading →
Over the weekend, I was sad to read of the passing of Chas & Dave pianist Chas Hodges. Hodges, one half of the London pair who in the 1980's taught us when it comes to a vacation, "You can keep the Costa Brava, I tell you mate I'd rava have a day darn Margate wiv... Continue Reading →
Today, my son Jonny is due to visit back to his childhood home; a pre-Christmas odyssey to exchange presents, whimsical insults and creosote anecdotes. The wood preservative yarns are a family yuletide tradition, passed down through generations of Strachans. They're never captivating, apart from Uncle Bert's tale of victory in the 1957 Bramley Shed Stainer of The Year competition........ Continue Reading →
For the first time in twenty eight years, Christmas Day in the Strachan home will be bereft of voices other than mine and that of my spouse, Karen. This situation not a consequence of a planned 24-hour sponsored family yuletide silence; an event which the missus and me had stubbornly refuse to participate in. Moreover, the fact that neither of our... Continue Reading →
Bereft of a topic for today's narrative, I cast my gaze over towards the gogglebox in the opposite corner of the room. On screen Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney and the other blonde lass whose name currently escapes me, heartily warble the song ‘White Christmas’, while festively adorning in red Santa garments. Evoking memories of Christmas’ past, Bing... Continue Reading →