Work for other people, that is. Even on a Saturday. The harvest is really kicking in, there's burly blokes with scythes as far as the eye can see, and Thomas Leaf (who's not really trusted with sharp objects) out behind them with the women. The only thing that would be needed to complete the perfect pastoral scene would be the sight of Hnaef with a jug of cider, supervising. Which, needless to say, he's doing.
Meanwhile, Reuben Dewey assured me that, through his stone-masonry contacts (that being the traditional work on his wife's side of the family), he could get hold of just the kind of stone I want. And he's working overtime, pulling the stone up from Casterbridge station. They're certainly the right kind of shape and size, but I just hope there's enough. I've got the finished drawings from young Tommy Hardy and that mile-long avenue is really going to need a lot.