Yep. A Lazarus post from a dead blog. It reminds me of an old folktale from my youth that might also serve as a cautionary parable, you’ll see the moral to the story by the end dear clever reader. A special shout out to Carmen.
Once upon a time there lived a family on a hardscrabble farm in an equally unforgiving rural area weeks travel from anywhere else you’d rather be. Life etched lines of wear on the people who lived there much like the frequent wind and rain dug runnels in the craggy landscape. John bore it well enough, although it left him permanently hunched over. He needed little for happiness beyond his pipe and the company of a dappled bluetick hound who had the curious habit of a sidewise gait that seemed like his nethers were in much more of a hurry than his fronters. One could never quite tell which would arrive first. Ruth was Johns wife. She was a sharp woman, all angles and severe judgement. Folks around her kept a cautious distance the same way one would a colicky hedgehog out in the orchard. Ruth took ill of a sudden and died. Old Doc Sullivan couldn’t figure it out. They had a quick wake at the family home and trundled her off down the lane to the simple cemetery in a casket carefully centered on the hay wagon pressed into temporary service as a makeshift hearse. John clucked at the team but let them have their way, and as a result didn’t take the turn wide enough to clear the solid granite posts of the cemetery gate. The whole business gave a mighty lurch that sling shot poor Ruth’s casket off onto the ground, tearing off the lid in the process. Ruth sat right up and started sputtering at John who, not knowing what else to do, took her back home. She lived another year then dropped in her tracks in the kitchen right before the finnan haddie was due out of the oven. Once again Doc Sullivan came out still scratching his head. “Must be the Corramobulous” he said. John reckoned they’d already had a wake once, nothing else needed to be said, so back on the wagon she went to be matched up with her headstone finally. As they neared the gate, John cautioned old Ned of the team. “Step careful Ned” he said. “This is where she woke up last time.”