Thoughts on Being Stove-Up

 

Clayton Iles Pond, Dry Creek, Louisiana

 

 

Thoughts on Being “Stove-Up”

 

I received word that one of my Dry Creek friends, Larry Dale, had been injured, so I immediately called his brother, David.

 

In his classic Dry Creek drawl (I’m proud of mine too), David said, “Yeah, Curt, he was up on a ladder gleaning his gutter when the ladder gave way, and he rode it down.”

 

“Luckily, he didn’t break nothing, but he is really stove-up.‌”

 

I didn’t need a medical chart or WebMD to explain. Larry Dale was bruised and stiff all over.

 

He was stove-up.

 

Now, there are levels of being stove-up. Only a nuanced listener can pick up on it.

 

“He’s stove-up.” He’s stiff.

 

“She’s all stove-up.” She’s aching all over and moving gingerly.

 

“He’s really stove-up.” sHe’s probably going to be in the lounge chair watching The Weather Channel over the next several days.

 

 

Later that day, I asked one of my Alexandria grandsons, “Jude, do you know what it means to be ‘Stove-up?

 

He looked at me with a blank stare. “No, PawPaw, I haven’t heard that before?”

 

When I explained what it meant to be stove up, he grinned. “Now, where did that come from?  Stove-Up? That doesn’t make sense.”

 

So that sent me on a word expedition, hunting for the origin of this unusual term. Here’s what I learned:

 

It’s an early English word that means “smashed in.”

 

“He gave a good kick and stove in the door.”

 

Our ancestors shifted the meaning to the colorful description “Of being sore or injured but not seriously hurt.”

 

Stove-Up made its way across the Atlantic and settled in among the mountainous area known as Appalachia. During the 1800s, many of our Scotch-Irish ancestors scattered it as they settled across the Deep South.

 

It’s always amazed me that our proper Yankee cousins left it to us Southerners to carry on the richest and most descriptive Old English terms. We’ve done our part.

 

“Stove-up” became part of the vernacular of the rural South and still is used where my people come from: the Louisiana Pineywoods.

 

Finally, the best thing about being stove-up is that you get over it. Time heals the aches and pains.

 

Here’s why the term is relevant for me. I had knee replacement surgery last week. It hasn’t been fun.

 

A Dry Creek friend called yesterday, “How are you doing?”

 

You guessed it.

 

“I’ll tell you the truth. I’m all stove-up.”

 

I’ve started physical therapy on my knee. When my P.T. arrived yesterday, he asked how I was doing.

 

I shifted my walker, and it just burst out of me. “I’m pretty stove-up.”

 

He shook his head. “Well, on a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your, uh, stove-upness? What I mean is, what is your level of pain right now?”

 

I couldn’t resist.  “10.2 on the Richter scale.”

 

“Don’t worry about your accent, 

‘cause a Southern man tells better jokes.”

-” Outfit”

Jason Isbell