Appalachian Word of the Week -- PUMPKNOT

My Appalachian word this week is PUMPKNOT.

A PUMPKNOT is what you get when your head bangs into something it oughtn’t. At high velocity. You may call it a “bump” or a “goose egg” instead of pumpknot. But, that’s what my family always called them.

Real Goose Eggs

My sister had a gift for getting pumpknots. I remember one time she was running crazy through the house (which of course we were told not to do) and she flew head-first into the Stokermatic stove that sat in the middle of the living room floor. Boy, I tell you I could see stars above her head and she had a huge pumpknot that popped out and grew bigger as we watched.

Another time, she had just received a skateboard for her birthday and was practicing inside the house. Well, I guess it seemed the smart thing to do since we had gravel in our driveway. I never saw the sense in having a skateboard in the mountains anyway; but then, that was my sister.

She took the skateboard into the kitchen and zoomed from there into the dining room and then into the living room, gaining speed. I suppose she was attempting to avoid the Stokermatic this time, so she swerved a little as she approached it. Well, she was going so fast that the skateboard veered off and went under the coffee table. My sister did not. She went head first into the table corner. Another huge pumpknot.

Of course, I’ve had my share of pumpknots, too. The one I remember most happened when I lived in Greenville, SC. I was carrying my lunch into the living room to eat while I worked on my computer. Somehow, my toe caught on the carpet and I did a slow spin and hit the floor. On the trip down to the floor, my lunch flew all around me and the back of my head hit a nearby table. My ankle did a spin of its own. In agony, I attempted to get up. No such luck.

About this time, my dachshund, Jessy, came running. I thought he was coming to check up on me. Not quite. He came to eat my lunch.

Not able to get up, I reached up to my desk, grabbed my phone, and called 911. When the dispatcher answered, I said, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” Then I giggled because it was so cliché. I figured she would hang up on me. She didn’t.

I made sure to tell her to send someone strong because I’m a big woman. Then I remembered my locked front door and pleaded, “Don’t let them break my door. Tell them to find the stone squirrel in the front yard and pick it up. In its butt is a house key.” Well, now it was her turn to giggle.

Not the squirrel I meant

I lay there on the floor, waiting and watching the pretty stars sparkle around my head. My dachshund barked and looked at the front door. I heard laughter from the front porch. The door opened and in walked four of the hunkiest guys I had ever seen. Glory be!

They surrounded me as my pumpknot pounded as it grew larger and my ankle screamed. One, two, three and I stood in front of them—on one foot and a bit worse for wear.

My heroes. Of course, I wouldn’t have minded if they hung around a bit longer and flexed their muscles for me. But like superheroes tend to do when their job is done, they said their farewells and flew (okay, so they walked) out the front door, laughed as they crossed the porch, and disappeared to wherever superheroes go.

My advice? Beware where you put your head. That is unless you prefer a visit from some hunky heroes. 

Now, tell me your pumpknot stories. Come on, I know you've got at least one doozie.