Escape to the country

Haas and Katrijn chiling at home

Yes, dear followers, we have had to resort to escaping the paps camped outside our mansion by eloping to the country. We have moved to an undisclosed location in the hope of getting some peace from media intrusion which had reached new lows when pictures of Katrijn sunbathing emerged in OK! Magazine.

Enough is enough.

The last three weeks have been blissfully peaceful and manic at the same time, but we’re now settling in very nicely.


So, we took the opportunity to upgrade our mansion, seeing as our status demanded we move to a posh postcode. You will have noticed that I have also had elocution lessons? Thank you. My agent told me I needed to upgrade the accent as well. I am now a Home Counties dwelling geezerbun, at your service.

Katrijn says she can now understand me most of the time, which is a blessing and a curse at the same time.

Our staff has had to make do with a bit of a hovel, a rather old and crumbly hand-me-down that doesn’t meet modern building regulations but they know who pay the bills around here so they dare not complain. We made sure Bouffe has his personal radiator and underfloor heating, we’re not fussed about the rest.

Bouffe's Corner

He says he’s very content in his new corner, in part to the proximity to the food dispenser, which staff irritatingly insist on calling the kitchen.


As before, he patrols the terrace most effectively. It does need defending from rogue sprigs and invading fire logs as you can see.


Bouffe Patrolling

As for my beloved Katrijn and me, we have no regrets about moving into our summerhouse. Lots of space to hide and scare our staff by running at them from unexpected hiding places. Very enjoyable!

Haas Katrijn Sumerhouse

We are also adjacent to the vegetable patch where our waiter will be growing our rare vintage organic peruvian purple carrots and other essentials next year. We can keep a close eye on him from here and stop him from sampling the goods.

Must dash my dears, I promised to donate a couple of pints of bunny poo tea to the Annual Harvest Feast so I had better get to it.

Katrijn…? Be a dear and find me my flat cap, I don’t know where I left it. Is it in the boot room perchance?

Spill your beans here - you know you want to!

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