Visit Stratford upon Avon in a Hired Motorhome.

Stratford upon Avon.

In 1557 a glove maker from Stratford upon Avon by the name of John Shakespeare married a Mary Arden. She was the daughter of a wealthy farmer from Wilmcote. Their son William Shakespeare was born on 23 April 1564.

In 1582 William married Anne Hathaway the daughter of a farmer from nearby Snottery. He was known far and wide as the ‘Snottery Farmer.’

Anne Hathaway’s Cottage.

The Globe Theatre.

The Motorhomers were sitting supping scrumpy. Both were a little dyslexic due to too much drink. They were studying the history of the town.

As usual their wives were suffering the duo’s ramblings;

‘A couple o’ eejits, Phemie, so they are,’ said Jessie.

‘Sure, Jessie, sure, Jessie,’ Phemie replied. ‘A couple o’ nincompoops,’ she said.

Francie was putting another poser to Josie;

‘There wis a lot o’ folk died in yon days, Josie. What’s the Bubonic Plaque, Josie?’ he asked.

‘Noo, there’s a question, Francie,’ said Josie. ‘I suppose that ye’ll be wantin’ me tae pass on this wee germ o’ information,’ he said.

‘Sure, Josie, sure, Josie,’ said Francie.

‘Well, Francie, there wisnae any teeth whitening in yon days. Bubonic Plaque made yer teeth turn black an’ ye died wi’ Diarrhoea,’ said Josie.

‘Dae ye mean the ‘trots’ Josie?’ asked Francie.

‘Aye, Francie,’ said Josie. ‘There wis lots o’ wee trotters frae the village o’ Snottery. Shakespeare didnae catch the Plaque, Francie, but he suffered a runny nose a’ o’ his life. He said that he caught it frae the fermer frae Snottery. I’ll read ye yin o’ his poems if ye would like, Francie?’ asked Josie.

‘Sure, Josie, sure, Josie, that wid be good,’ said Francie.

A crowd had gathered as Francie prepared to read. He drew his shoulders back, took a deep breath and began;

The Dreep.

Whit can I dae aboot this continual dreepin’
Frae my nose a’ the day even when I’m sleepin’
The Doctor says he can dae naethin’ aboot it
He says it’s no’ like somethin’ ye can take it oot an’ shoot it

I went tae the Chemist tae pick up my prescription
An’ afore I went in I gave my hooter a guid blow
But as I bent o’er the coonter tae sign my description
Watter frae the well o’ my nasal canal began tae flow

The wee lassie wis awfy guid an’ didnae make it an issue
She just went roon’ the back
An’ when she came back
She geid me a big paper tissue

In the Post Office oot o’ the rain
An’ I noticed my sleeve wis a’ damp
Wi’ wipin’ the dreep as I walked doon the street
It wis handy for stickin’ the stamp

It’s no’ bad today, noo I’ve found a way
A guid way tae kick it
I jist lick it.

Joe Sharp.

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