I realise that this is not quite the same as Ford Maddox Brown's painting, Work, but at least it does depict manual labour. The builders are converting yet another farm outbuilding, within the village where I live, into a dwelling. The only consolation is that it is not for commercial gain as the eldest son of the owner of the outbuilding is to live there. In fact the family who once worked the farm are creating their own little 'village' within the village as the land that the farm once occupied now contains a house for the matriarch of the family, a house for her second son and a further house for her grandson. I think the enterprise may have to stop at this last venture as I don't think they have enough outbuildings left to house her other two children and her six grown up grandchildren.
Prior to deciding on this as my blip of the day I went for a walk down the road which was quite eerie. As soon as I left the confines of the village a strange silence descended. Apart from the very infrequent passing of a car, the only sound that could be heard was of a Tit singing - even the traffic from the bypass, two fields away, couldn't be heard. It was as if the whole of the road had been sound proofed.