It’s Save-a-Word Saturday! For any who need a reminder of/never knew what that means, here’s how it goes:
1) Create a post linking back to the hosts, The Feather and the Rose.
2) Pick an old word you want to save from extinction to feature in the post. (If you find yourself in want of options, Feather ‘n’ Rose recommended a site that may have some word-lovers drooling. Luciferous Logolepsy. Even its name is old and delicious!)
3) Provide a definition of your word, and use it in a sentence/short paragraph/mini story vaguely related to the particular week’s chosen theme.
4) Sign up properly on the host post’s linky list so participants can easily find each other and share their logophilistic joy.
5) Be a hero by sharing these retro words with the world!
I’ve been participating in the weekly fun via my “Ballad of Allyn-a-Dale” Facebook page, giving myself the extra challenge/fun of relating every word I pick to my re-imagining of the Robin Hood legend (a.k.a. the magnum opus to be self-published after the completion of “The Wilderhark Tales”). But I figure, hey, with this week’s vignette all pre-written and ready to go, no reason I can’t post it here for the blog-inclined to see!
So, without further delay, here’s my word-saving civic duty of the day.
The theme: Love.
The word: “Alderliefest”, an adjective meaning “dearest of all”.
“Good morning, Allyn-a-Dale,” the sturdy knight of Camelot greeted the minstrel as they met on the road.
Allyn matched the other’s courteous bow. “And to you, Sir Gawain.”
“We have not had the opportunity to speak since the night of your arrival in the Faire. How have you enjoyed your stay among the Merry Men, these few days?”
“It’s been… odd.”
Gawain tipped his head in polite interest. “How so?”
“They are a strangely physical company,” said Allyn, brow furrowed. “They are forever taking hold of me – Robin clasping my shoulder, Marion looping her arm through mine, Will Scarlet clutching my body to his like an overzealous bard with his alderliefest instrument…”
“Ah, yes.” The knight nodded. “I believe it is their way of showing affection.”
Allyn blinked. “What has that to do with me?”
“Perhaps they love you,” Gawain suggested. “You are one of them now, after all.”
“Oh,” said Allyn, voice faint with surprise. He turned toward the Faire’s little Sherwood, an unfamiliar feeling stirring in his lonely heart. “I suppose I am.”