Guest Post by Katie the Roomate
Dear Writerly Folk of Blogland,
Perhaps you were enjoying a cup of afternoon tea as you worked on your latest novel draft or scrolled through your blogroll. Perhaps you were procuring groceries for a deceased astronaut's funeral luncheon or herding a flock of zebras through the Scottish highlands. Perhaps you were ironing your favourite* pair of argyle socks or painting your cat's toenails a lovely shade of chartreuse**. Yes, I think that's it--I can sense it. Though the mists of time veil you from my sight, your cat's chartreuse toenails gleam through the murk.
Regardless of the state of your cat's toenails in the autumn of that shining year, I can say with certainty what you were not doing at that auspicious three o'clock hour. You were not swooning over sharply dressed men. You were not marveling at the universe's most incredible gift to man: the fainting goat. Nor were you learning how to make fourteenth-century salmon and fruit pie, nor how to create the healthiest dessert in the world, nor how to properly cook bacon. (If you knew the words whisternefet or rusticate or misoneism on October 18, 2011, we need to talk, because you must be the coolest person in the world, or at least someone with the ability to get me a free subscription to the OED online.) You were doing and knowing none of these things, for this most glorious and awe-ful blog had yet to be born.
As for me, humble and lowly Katie the Roommate, I was sitting just a wall of cinderblocks away from the birthplace of the very blog you now hold in your hands. Was I cognizant of this remarkable fact? Regrettably, no. Ten feet away from me two brave young women were unleashing The Feather and the Rose to the world. I sat clipping my toenails*** while they prepared to share with you their wisdom, daring, and wit.
And wise and daring and witty they are. Where else in the world are you going to find people who can bring their knowledge of not only Greek vocabulary and Aristotle but also Russell Crowe's voice and Dove Chocolates to bear on the art of writing? Nowhere else that I know of. And they manage all this glory whilst battling mountains of homework the size of Olympus. They're pretty incredible people. Relish them.
So a happiest of happy second birthdays to The Feather and the Rose! And to Tyler-Rose and Susan!**** Although they're older than two years old! Or are they . . . ?
I'd powder-sugar their faces onto cakes and share them***** with you all if I could.
Yours in the newfound knowledge of chartreuse,
Katie the Roommate
* I cannot and will not apologise for my Anglophilic tendencies, which are immensely powerful despite the fact that I have but once journeyed beyond the North American continent.
** Do you actually know what colour chartreuse is? I do not. I just know that it is the name of a colour that everyone uses when they discuss the colour-blindness of males. Shall we find out together? Let's! Wikipedia tells me it's green! Yellow-y green! Always remember, never forget!
*** This is a lie. I only ever clip my toenails on Sunday mornings, at either 7:26 A.M. or 9:41 A.M.
**** Have you ever wondered which one's the Feather and which one's the Rose? I mean, Tyler-Rose's name makes it sort of obvious, but who knows? They could be getting deeply metaphorical on us. For my part, I'm envisioning them in mascot costumes, like this:
|The very definition of beauty.|
|Sorry, Susan. This was the only feather-y mascot I could find.|
***** Ambiguous antecedent! Am I sharing the cakes, or am I sharing Susan and Tyler-Rose? I'm having trouble deciding which one I'd prefer myself . . . . But they make me cake, so I guess I'll keep them. You can have their powdered-sugar faces.
As a blog birthday gift to Tyler-Rose and Susan, I let them go to bed early while I took over Save-a-Word Saturday. So let's have at it!
Welcome to Save-a-Word Saturday!
Join us as we spread our love of old and unusual words by sharing them with other bloggers and thereby saving them from the oldest, least-visited vaults of the Word Bank.
<a href="http://www.thefeatherandtherose.blogspot.com" target="_self"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7UO138NOoX4/UItIxhKJwmI/AAAAAAAAArM/LBMYc_tVWdk/s800/sawmeme.jpg" alt="Save-a-Word Saturday" width="251" height="251" /></a>
2. Pick an old word you want to save from extinction to feature in your blog post. It really must be an old word, not just a big one. We are trying to save lovely archaisms, not ugly giants (for example, "Dihydrogen Monoxide" is not an acceptable choice). Luciferous Logolepsy is a great database of lovely words if you're having trouble coming up with something on your own.
3. Provide a definition of your word. Use your word in a sentence (or even a short paragraph) vaguely related to the theme we have chosen this week. You may also add visual or musical interpretations of your word or your sentence. In fact, add anything that moves your creative spirit.
4. Add your post to the linky list below (it's down there somewhere). Then hop to as many other blogs as you can in search of as many wonderful words as possible!
5. Be a hero by using the words in your everyday life--that is how they will really be saved! Do leave us a note or add something to your own post to let us all know what wonderful old word you whipped out to befuddle your friends and relations.
softly, silently; gently
And my sentences:
Katie the Roommate sat in the late-night living room, her roommates having gone to sleep long ago, when the sound of someone knocking neshly on the door disturbed her blogging reverie.
"Who is that, knocking so neshly at the door?" she asked herself. She took a brief glance through the peephole to find-- but no! How could it be?"
Puzzled, she opened the door to correct her wearied eyesight. But there he was indeed! Richard Armitage stood on the doorstep, clutching two tattered manuscripts to his chest, his arms quivering and eyes flashing with frenzy.
"Susan and Tyler-Rose! Where are Susan and Tyler-Rose?!"
"They-- they've gone to sleep for the night, Mr. Armitage. What are you doing here?"
"I must speak with them!" His mad voice thundered through the empty hallway and the papers in his arms fluttered with his zeal.
Then, conspiratorially, he leaned toward Katie the Roommate to whisper, "I have given up my life as an actor to pursue a career as a literary agent. I found The Feather and the Rose the day it was born, October 18th, 2011, and I have visited it every day since. How Susan and Tyler-Rose inspired me then! But it was only last week that I built up the courage to fly to America, break into their dorm, and steal their WIPs from their laptops. Now I want to publish their novels as my debut into the publishing world. I can think of nothing more fitting than to kickstart the careers of the young women who changed my life. Please, please allow me to speak with them!"
"Oh, Mr. Armitage, what a remarkable story! I'm sure they'd both be most honoured, and I'll be sure to pass along your compliment. But they've both had a long week of papers and midterms, and so much more work to do this weekend. I know they wouldn't want to be disturbed from their slumber."
The actor-turned-agent let out a hiss and then turned sharply, stomping his way down the long hallway.
And with that dear Richard vanished into the night, never to be seen again. But at times, Susan and Tyler-Rose and their roommates yet hear a strange moaning, as if from a dying bird, beneath the windows of their dorm, and they watch as the grieving agent lets his beloved manuscripts depart, page by page, into the ether.
Next week's theme is . . . wallpaper removal.