Gamekeeper Corner

A State of the Ferret update in a minute but meanwhile we're getting to grips with all those terrible corners in the house which have just been too terrible to tackle without at minimum a double gin, and possibly the worst it has to be said was Gamekeeper Corner. Holding the rest of the boot room to ransom, even getting to the door required a bosun's chair, something needed to be done.
So the troops were mustered reluctantly (it must be admitted) but suitably fortified (pot of Earl Grey, it was only 11am, about an hour too early for gin) and a battle strategy was devised.
No point in sidling up to this corner from the right flank and trying to outwit it, this just needed gloves and a head-on galloping charge, throw it all out into the garden and start again. So with reinforcements dispatched to the shed with the command not to return without shelves of some description, make a thousand tins of paint homeless if you must but do not return to this battlefield empty-handed, the onslaught began.
Did you think it was only women who collected handbags?
Imelda Marcos who had the National Shoe Collection?

And now let's turn to the State of the Ferrets.
You may remember those beautiful blond girls, Bubble and Squeak?
Well they both escaped a few weeks ago. Clearly bored with the decorative features in their quarters.Huge inquest with blame levelled at a faulty latch and sufficient sturm and drang to have Goethe popping his head around the door to see how it's done (in which individual subjectivity and, in particular, extremes of emotion were given free expression in response to the confines of rationalism imposed by the Enlightenment and associated aesthetic movements)
Yes much anguish in Gamekeeper Corner.
A fracas in the canine sleeping quarters the next day heralded the wanderer's return and dispelled some of the angst. One night on the tiles and Squeak the Weeny had come home, found sleeping it off underneath the kennel, tail between legs, looking rough as rats, ready to eat a horse, bit the worse for wear but Bubble the Bombshell had obviously been tempted by the bright lights and done a runner.
Much more sturming and dranging.
With Ferret Force One depleted the Gamekeeper bought in another pair... Ferret Force Two, a hob and a jill and as yet unnamed so there's a challenge for you and if it helps to visualise here they are. I'm Strictly up for Bruce and Tess or John and Kristina but they've been rejected as too daft to call out loud when on a serious hunting mission.

But can you believe it, Bubble the Blonde Bombshell then turned up about two weeks ago in a cage trap on a friend's farm a few miles away. Well all those nights out clubbing and a junk diet were never going to do a girl's fur coat any favours but she's been through rehab, therapy and grooming  and is now happily reunited with Squeak.
In-house breeding programmes are now being considered to create a good strong working stockline but of course in the meantime we have no knowledge of any dalliances Bubbles may have made whilst out on that frolic of her own, could have been prey to any old polecat out there.
I'll let you know of any Bubblets.