Saturday Wordzzle Challenge: Week 19

It's week 19 of the Saturday Wordzzle challenge. Anyone new to the process can refer back here to find out how it works.

The words for this week's ten word challenge were: fabulous, aristocrat, tricycle, soft summer breeze, cat litter, silver-tongued devil, curtain rod, lilacs, Abraham Lincoln, garbage can And for the Mini Challenge: strangle-hold, revelation, dormancy, tripod, space cadet

Here's my ten-word offering for this week.

Oh, the magnificence of the words! Reading Walt Whitman’s poetry always made Amanda feel fabulous. “Oh Captain, My Captain,” she explained to her son, is about the death of Abraham Lincoln. Sitting on the porch reading to Marcus, a soft summer breeze wafting the scent of lilacs, would have seemed more poetic without the tricycle, the garbage cans and the box of assorted curtain rods, clothes hangers, cat litter and other trash sitting out by the curb. Why couldn’t that silver-tongued devil who had charmed her all those years ago have been the aristocrat he had appeared to be to her naive teen-aged heart? It was so unfair. But even as this thought went through her head, she caught a glimpse of her young son's shining face and thought maybe she was pretty lucky after all.

And here's my mini challenge:

Despite the revelation that her cancer was in a state of dormancy, Lila still felt its strangle-hold on her spirit. Setting up her tripod and organizing her cameras for today’s shoot, she moved like a space cadet, her mind bouncing here and there as though she feared that accepting the good news might jinx it. Still, while her head grappled with accepting the good news, her body seemed to sense its reprieve and she gradually relaxed into her work. Then, slowly but surely, hope seeped into her spirit as well.

And the mega challenge:

Abraham Lincoln was a lilac Siamese cat, a feline aristocrat, and not-so silver-tongued devil who had very decided opinions about cat litter, fine cuisine, home décor – well, just about everything. He could hardly believe that a fabulous kitty like himself was now in the hands of the strange person who was currently manhandling him. One minute he had been dozing happily in the soft summer breeze on the veranda of the mansion and the next he was struggling against the strangle-hold of his current captor. Looking at the chaos around him – curtain rod at a rakish angle on the window, a rusty tricycle in the middle of the room, the reeking garbage can in the corner he expected his captor to be a real space cadet, but it seemed she was anything but. Trapped in the physical dormancy of his semi-drugged state, he watched as she efficiently set up the tripod and aimed a camera in his direction. “If you want Mr. Lincoln back in the White House,” she declared loudly, “You had better pay up… Here’s proof that I have him….” It was then the joyful revelation struck him. She was not planning to keep him. He was being held for ransom. Hope was restored. His beloved humans would never abandon him! Help would soon be on the way and he would be returned to his proper kingdom and total control.

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This week's vanity wordzzle used the words: Thumbelina, morose, pooper scooper, saline solution, dyspepsia, aromatic, finesse, monumental.

“Do yuh want dis Pepsi heah?” the waitress asked in her thick Brooklyn accent. “Dyspepsia?” Disoriented, Marge looked up from her reading. “Whose got dyspepsia?” It was not surprising that her mind went to such things because Thumbelina, her sweet diminutive 15 year-old Siamese cat had just been diagnosed with kidney failure and Marge was immersed in research. She was at that moment reading a pamphlet from the holistic pet supply store describing natural and alternative treatments for kidney disease in cats. Marge was desperately looking for hope wherever she could find it. The idea that Thumbelina could die was overwhelming, monumental, impossible. It could not be permitted. She would not let it happen. From the vet she had learned how to give infusions of saline solution. Thumbelina’s small wiry body squirmed fretfully under her hand each night, but she had already developed a bit of finesse at grabbing her quickly and sliding the needle gently under the skin while this good and faithful friend bitterly decried such callousness. But the treatments helped, and true to her nature, Thumbelina was a forgiving spirit. Following each treatment she would stalk off and lick her wounds and then come quietly back for a hug and a special treat. It was just not possible that God would take her. “Well?” the waitress asked, irritated. “Oh, the Pepsi. Yes. Yes. Fine,” she said, and went back to her reading. This was interesting. Aroma therapy. Couldn’t hurt. The book listed a series of aromatic fragrances and herbs which she could burn or boil or use in various ways. She would buy them all. She would burn and rub and do whatever. As she finished her soda, she felt slightly more hopeful, less bitter and morose. She rose to leave, almost forgetting the bag of purchases from the pet store – a new pooper-scooper, some special herbal treats, and, best of all, a great new toy. Looking at the toy, she told herself again that she and Thumbelina would get through this. They just had to.

Next Week's Ten Word Challenge will be: handy, operation, gratitude, parallel bars, the color purple, manic depressive, Puget Sound, fragmentary, perpetual motion, secretive

And for the Mini Challenge: sympathetic, filet of sole, mysterious stranger, elephantine, music

Thanks for playing. For those who are new, here are some guidelines to make the process more fun.

Enjoy! See you next week.

DON'T FORGET TO ADD YOUR NAME TO MR. LINKY!!!!!