Homesweet homestead hideaway

Yesterday's migraine postdrome most of today despite Actual Coffee after breakfast, so I was clumsy and brainfogged, balanced somewhat by caffeine. Mini-migraine in the afternoon though, so I finished an hour early and sat on the settee with my eyes closed, listening to the mellifluously voiced American lady reading some more of Robert Louis Stevenson.

Then a bit of gentle music; the painting is from the booklet accompanying my William D Drake album. He says it was taken from a "book with magic leaves" and written in the "perilous hours of the 1820s". In my migraineous half-stupor I rather fancied a quiet stroll around those ruins, listening to the birds and the creaking of ivy upon precarious walls.