home is the hunter …

Anniemay’s long gone by the time I wake up.  The butcher opens at 6.00am and she’s determined not to fail in the mission she’s been entrusted with; supplies not just for us, but our neighbour and Chris and Sian as well.  Even so, there’s a queue when she gets there.

I saw her coming back and manage to grab the camera in time.  

‘Home is the hunter…’ came into my head as I watched.  I knew the line, but not its origin.  All I have in my head is a vague image of Robert Mitchum.  The computer on my phone tells me it’s by Robert Louis Stevenson.

But that’s not the biggest surprise.  What really grabs my attention are the first four words of the second verse: Philip Larkin.  

I don’t know why I should be surprised, but I am.  My phone also tells me that Houseman wrote a similar verse, incorporating the words sailor, home, hunter and hill.

For Anniemay, the early morning visit to the butcher has awoken other memories, more prosaic - Gammon steaks; “Do you remember …”  

Before I have a chance to, she recites the entire menu from a Berni Inn (circa 1970) starting with ‘Orange Juice’ and ending with ‘Gaelic Coffee’ by way of Gammon Steak and chips, followed by Black Forest Gateau.  All for about 5 shillings.  That’s without the bottle of Mateus Rose ( which was taken home to make a lamp).  

The hunter fills the fridge as I make breakfast; fruit, cereal and yoghurt.  Our share of the shopping can wait.

Requiem

Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will

This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.


Robert Louis Stevenson

If you need a bit of uplifting right now, have a look and listen to this; Robbie Robertson and Ringo  Starr and others  'playing for change'