Is it Possible to Have Too Much Cock? We investigate an outbreak of Double Entendre in Somerset. It was HUGE!
“You can’t leave! You’re part of the furniture and you’re model campers!” I wondered whether the wardens of Verwood Camping and Caravanning Club Site knew how pleased and relieved The Jobsworths had been to see the back of us!
We had stayed at Verwood for 17 days. We would miss the bluebells, Helen next door with her King Charles Spaniel and William the collie, who had just had an operation to remove a tumour from his back.
“Drive safely!” the shouted as they waved us off. The Sat Nav took us on a long and winding road that wiggled through picture perfect Dorset villages with names that would make fabulous characters in a Miss Marple ‘Whodunnit?!’ – Kingsbury Episcopi, Staple Fitzpaine and the twins; Shepton and Hatch Beauchamp.
We passed Curry Mallet and Beercrocombe, the perfect pairing; conveniently located right next to each other – and just up the road from Isle Brewers.
We were all settled in at Cadeside Caravan Club Site – no awning and pitched in a record half an hour. The only problem was that the dogs’ favourite grandstand on the back of the sofa affected the TV signal and made the FA Cup Semi Final crack up!
We were heading towards a 9 dog day as we visited a dear friend near Wellington in Somerset. And little did we know, a double entendre was looming. And it was HUGE!
23rd April; 4am – I was awoken by a cock. Mark complained about a noisy bird.
24th April; The cock was not up until 6am. I prefer a much later rising.
25th April; Cock up at 05:00 hours. I wasn’t going to mention it again but Mark, our friend and I all agreed that you can’t get too much cock.
26th April; I take it back. You CAN get too much cock. 05:17 our avian companion had changed his tune. Cock-a-doodle-WHEE-WOOO. Somehow much more annoying and considerably more difficult to ignore.
And then there was a difference of opinion within our group as to whether you can have too much Cox, as in the Lovely, Lovely Professor Brian Cox OBE, Particle Physicist, TV Presenter, erstwhile rock star, plane spotter and provoker of virulent jealousy for going supersonic in the English Electric Lightning. He also hails from my home county of Lancashire. I will leave you to make up your own mind where I might stand on the Quantum of Cox issue!
Loosely on the same theme, we went to see Wellington’s Big Thingy. It’s the tallest 3 sided obelisk in the world, you know. The dogs liked the Big Thingy.
But they like balls better.
The Big Thingy is a testament to how short lived peoples’ approval can be. It is a monument to the Duke of Wellington – National Hero for defeating Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815. All that Wellington did was secure peace in Europe for the next century – right up until Gavrilo Princip took a pot shot at Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo and started the First World War.
A staggering amount of money (£1,450 = A LOT in 1815!) was raised for the monument in a few months. A 43-metre plinth with a cast iron statue of the Duke was planned. Then the money ran out and people forgot, so there was a partial pillar only 13-metres high and everyone was bored. Building continued in fits and starts before the monument was downgraded so as not to bother with the statue. Not quite the memorial the Iron Duke might have expected.
But he did eventually get a Banksy!
Join us next time as we got to my home county – and that of Lovely Lovely Professor Brian Cox – where we encounter a Slice of Lancashire Life and a Doggy Drama!
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