Upper Weston, from up above

Mostly raining. In the morning I wrote out a report for the book group, and helped a friend fill out a massive job application form.

Tried to get some insurance sorted out this afternoon but failed. Every year it's like pulling teeth all over again, endlessly being put on hold and then being told that they can't help anyway....

By this time I was getting cabin fever, so I took myself to the end of the road and into the countryside. All was dank and dripping, but I enjoyed the walk, misty though it was on the ridge.

I couldn't walk far along the ridge because the track was muddy. Clay clung to my flimsy running shoes, which began to weigh me down .I slid back down the bridleway, but not before snapping this barrel under a tree. So far, so Thomas Hardy. I do not know what it is used for.

In the background is the suburb of Upper Weston, where I am staying. The houses are late 20 th century, but the village centre is older. It is so very quiet here that I am wondering if zombies have already claimed most of the population.