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 →