Save-A-Word Saturday (28)

Save-a-Word Saturday

The rules run thusly:

1. Create a lovely blog post that links back to this one. The easiest way to do that would be to grab the code under our pretty Save-a-Word Saturday button. Just copy and paste it into the HTML part of your blog.

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. Use as many of the words as you can on the people in your life. 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.

This week’s theme is:
Pantaloons

And the word of the day is…

pamphagous – adj.  eating everything; all-consuming

“We must have done something right,” Ger said as he swung open the door and swaggered into the room. “We’ve all three been invited to dine with the Duke tonight. How’s that for a hero’s welcome?”

“Dine with the Duke?” Ketta stood, shaking her head. “No, no, no. We can’t do that. We’ll be kicked out of the court, and then we’ll never get anywhere close to finding that book.”

“Kicked out? How do you figure?” Ger seated himself on the edge of the straw bed, and Ketta began to pace the room.

“Because Carlyle can’t resist a feast,” she said seriously. “Place food before him, and he becomes pamphagous. He won’t stop eating, until well after his pantaloons have ripped and the Duke’s entire kitchen has been emptied.”

Ger stared at Ketta, his brow creased. “Hmm, I see what you mean.” He nodded his head slowly. “They offer us a feast, and if we accept their generosity, we’ll greatly offend. Tough, very tough.”

Ketta stopped, hands on her hips. “Sometimes I really hate you,” she said, and then Ger laughed, and pulled her onto his lap for a kiss. 

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