Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
“Don't leave me this way. I can’t survive, can’t stay alive, without your love. Don’t leave me this way.” Those sentiments from an opening chorus of a Communards refrain are often communicated by my beagle Bella’s sad sideways glances when about to be left home alone. Yours truly's parting assurances of “I’ll not be long!”... Continue Reading →
Scene - At the park’s periphery, a middle-aged man and his dog engage on a frenetic walk. The pair circumnavigate tree trunks with the nimbleness of a Lionel Messi dribble, a waltzing skillset of Anton du Beke, along with the collision avoidance wherewithal of fighter pilot Brad Bootavich. Cause of this improvised dance routine was... Continue Reading →
A few weeks back, some sixty-six million years after dinosaurs became extinct and slightly before yours truly commenced penning this narrative, I rehomed a dog. The hound in question a four your old beagle who, for the purposes of the narrative (and because it’s her name), I shall call Bella. With details of the rehoming... Continue Reading →
Two weeks into the Trump presidency and it’s all kicking off stateside. The Shitkicker King taking little time to become schoolground bully, attempting to steal Canada, Greenland, and Panama’s lunch money. As a non-American I’d love to watch these scenes across the pond with indifference. Let the red necks, 30-year-old virgins, gun freaks, and ill-educated... Continue Reading →
A Wakefield coffee house is the venue of today’s writing exercise. Sporadic scans show consumer traffic outside is light, sadly inhibiting inspiration ordinarily borne from people watching. Apart from a woman two tables away revealing prevailing work woes to a colleague, there is little playing out in the immediate vicinity to whet my creative juices.... Continue Reading →
With it's predominantly glass construction making my current environment uncomfortably warm, I don't know how long I'm gonna be able to sit writing in this present spot; a coffee house within a south Leeds shopping centre. My iced Americano making little impact when it comes to cooling my body temperature, I'm finding the discomfort borne... Continue Reading →
It's 6.30am on a Saturday morning and I've just woken from the bizarre dream sequence which played out during slumber. This offbeat night vision's plot line including involvement in a game of ice hockey while awaiting my car to be repaired at an adjacent garage. As these scenes manifested, I don't know what surprised me... Continue Reading →
With the construction element of chez Strachan's bathroom revamp now completed, GJ Strachan's thoughts have turned to selecting the chamber's ornamental and pictorial furnishings. Before proceeding further I'd like to clarify that, despite possibly reading differently, my initial sentence doesn't mean I couldn't embark on accessory selection until plumbing'd been concluded and silicon dry. Yours... Continue Reading →
Tuesday 4th May affords me a rare odyssey out of the home, chauffeuring Mrs Strachan senior to fulfil an appointment with a stroke consultant. To clarify, the scheduled meeting is with a neurologist at Pinderfields Hospital, Wakefield; not that my octogenarian forebear's booked herself an afternoon swimming lesson. On arrival at UK's top hospital rhyming... Continue Reading →