Rose Croft, Brentwood - 23rd April 1973

Dear C. Did you have a jolly Easter? Eh? I certainly hope it was better than the one I had. How awful it was. Change the subject quick - what a delightful smell of paint and pussy poop perpatrates my nostrils - John and Christine have been painting everything white and laying lino, washing and scrubbing goodness knows what! I'm sure they want to paint me white too but I'm too quick fer dem, sure nuff! The kittens are driving me to distration with their ceaseless antics, frolicking and rugby tackles, but I feel sorry for them in the dark cold living room and let them into my room ( what a fool!) and after 10 minutes I can stand it no longer and chuck 'em out! Thanks for your last letter, did I reply to it? I can't remember now! What a memory! I've just finished painting some pegs and spoon for my herbalist friends in North Weald. They're kindly folk and put me on the payroll- well, maybe. If "Rackam's of Piccadilly " approve. If not I shall become a dustman again! Boo hoo! Not a pleasing prospect! I went for a job as a swimming pool attendant last week but this 85 year old with one leg got the job! ( Thinks - perhaps I should wear a suit and tie?) Underneath my diving apparatus of course! What awful weather - I don't feel like painting in my "studio" when it's raining and the door rattles in the wind. Captain B Fart at the Rainbow was good - better than the time we all saw him last year. I stayed at Barry's place and the next day, when Evonne was safely packed off to work we went around the market and visited Barry's landlord - a kindly old soul called Peter who potters about his properties with the air of a cheerful Uncle Charlie. What's that 'sposed to mean? Here's the crucipig - I hope it does the trick! ( keeping those werewolves at bay is a tricky business!) Has he tried a bunch of radishes? All for the moment, yours Micky Chucklebright and His performing legs.