Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
It's the 1st January 2021, and the Christmas tree is down. I've no idea why it's down, I'd have thought it'd been glad to see the end of the 365 day s***show that concluded at midnight. I'll have to see if MiracleGro manufacture a horticultural version of prozac to pep the fella back up. Clearly,... Continue Reading →
Following yesterday's efforts by her attention-seeking elder son, Mrs Strachan senior's Christmas tree now stands imposingly in the front room bay window of her West Yorkshire abode. The artificial evergreen bringing a much needed hint of festive cheer and chromatic hue to the octogenarian's lounge. Reading my previous sentence, some may suggest after penning artificial there's... Continue Reading →
I didn't get a chance to pen a narrative yesterday. Instead of literary escape, my priorities a meeting to glean details of voluntary charity work I'll shortly be undertaking, a sojourn with my mum for her weekly shop, along with increasing the festive aesthetics of mater's Wakefield domicile. If you're wondering what the heck 'increasing the festive aesthetics... Continue Reading →
As a result of a visit to my parents for Sunday dinner, for the second day on the trot I’ve started my daily blog later than normal. Although, I suspect not much sleep will be lost on that less than interesting introduction! With my wife Karen at her fragrant mum and dad’s for the weekend,... Continue Reading →
Christmas jollity is in evidence today at the Bexley Wing, at St James Hospital. There is a noticeable raising of spirits as volunteers adorned in Christmas sweaters and reindeer antlers hand out sweets, mince pies and hugs. The oncology patients respond in kind by returning the hugs and smiles, along with an acknowledgement of gratitude and MRSA... Continue Reading →
With only a Cadburys fresh air advent calendar on display, there currently isn’t much of a festive ambience in chez Strachan. With this in mind, I intend to raise the yuletide cheer levels later by venturing to my local garden centre to acquire a Christmas tree. I know that’s hardly news that will make this evenings TV... Continue Reading →
This morning I put my Christmas tree up. I wouldn’t say ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas’ as penned by lyricist Meredith Willson in 1951, but a decorated tree, along with the smell of pine and cinnamon, have definitely made the house feel more festive. I find something strangely therapeutic about decorating a... Continue Reading →