How nice to hear your voice this morning. How nice to wake up yet again in Great Alne. How nice this world.

                        There are two men, my nice shy sensitive one who alone coped here yesterday and stripped the paper and plastered, and this morning his mate, who once played cricket for my Alne Hills C.C. Nice friendly soul, musical. His repertoire so far has included Traumerie, God Save the Prince of Wales, Aloa, Bull and Bush, Rule Brittania -after a chat with his mate on Hitler – (“Silly bugger’s got the wind up, “) – Rhapsody in Blue (nearly) and a lot more.

                        I rose at seven, and Great Alne is not relaxing, I bed down at twelve and rise at seven frisky as anything. I lit the fire and at seven-fifteen the blokes came. You telephoned as the eggs were scrambled and I fed, and then painted “for half an hour”. But it is now 11.15 and I have just turpentined my hands. I have done the cupboards and the door posts. We proceed. Also the lavatory seat. Only when I had started did I recal that you said Not White. Oh dear, can you re-do it later gold or whatever you fancy. I did it lovingly between 11 and twelve last night. I thought it was dry this morning. You can’t always tell, can you ?

                        Nice letter from the Macqueen, full of praises quoted from schools on Leonardo. It seems it was a wow. She wants me to go up to get the Autumn term work, I am writing to say Tuesday, yes ?

                        Why not come too ?

                        Have just been to the Boot with a jug, walked carelessly and returned with infinite care. Very nice. For the boys and me too.

                  Oh, trouble in the goldfish bowl. I am enquiring into it, and trying appeasment. Some-one has been fighting, for Vicky’s tail is damaged and Albert has a briuse on the side. Oh dear, I wonder if the snails are worth while ? They do nothing at all , Would V. and A. be happier alone ? I ask you, what reads Zoo.

                        We cannot get the kitchen done before Easter, we are lucky having the hall done. But the nice young Buggins-man has brought me some materials, -sugar-soap to get the grease off and whitening and yellow ochre to touch up the walls. We’ll do round the sink.

                        Taking  Mrs. A. into Alcester on Saturday.
Mrs. Sadgrove telephoned me this morning to say Hullo. Nice soul.
The pamphlets have come. Good.  On with the motley.
Penny man ? Penny man ? Me ? Guinea man ! Ten guinea man !

                     Your Aunt. . .yes, sublty disapporving all of them. Maurice, gawky, no polish, not civilised. . .your uncle, goodman and true though handicapped by his generation and too much newspaper learning, slightly self-made. Nice, gently, all of them. Not to be taken after meals. As for the organisations, offered in good faith and in the best of spirits, we will forget them, I had already. Our house, our ideas, they are our guests. Polite to them but they must be polite to us. Good manners should prevail on both sides.

                        Now for a letter to the Macqueen, one to Mother and then the last two pages of Charles, post it and then Machines again and for the laat time.  Swine its been. Prisons has only been through the machine once, rough and smooth, rough and smooth. We must oblige always.

                        And so, my dear, mistress of Rosemary Cottage, fare thee very well. I arrive Thursday evening at six and collect either you and your mother or you. Also bedclothes and any food which your mother has got.