We never named our current house. It never occurred to Husband, and my life was changing too much for me to come up with any. I've never named a house, before. Cars, yes. All of them, in fact. Except for the Taurus -- no name ever came to me. But I've always wanted to name my house and use it in my return address.
Well, we finally named the current house, after all. You may have noticed it in my Location entry -- "Havoc House." Sometimes, when a name fits, it simply blinds you - or beans you one. (My poor hips knows where every box is ... until it gets moved, that is.)
But we (read: I) had no such luck with the new house. I wanted something that would reflect how this was my child, the creative output of my own effort. Something to reflect the peace and security that home represents to me. Something to suggest a place of sharing, of music, of friends. Something that would include our commitment to the nature around us and to the land. Something poetic. Husband wanted something of one word -- preferably one syllable. Nothing romantic. Nothing saccharine. Tough requirements.
Research was begun. Myths were explored. Gaelic translators were used. Lists of beds&breakfasts were consulted.
I suggested, in turn, "Haven," Havenhurst," "Tor Haven," "Conservatory," "Havenwood," Husband suggested "Nest."
Despair was felt.
So, there I was at the house sometime last week. Husband had asked me to decide where in the kitchen I wanted to put the wall phone. I sat at the hutch (at the southeast corner of the kitchen) and surveyed my turf as I ate some leftover pizza, which we had brought for the Jensen brothers on their last day on site. The phone location just jumped out at me -- next to the door to the laundry/mud room. Free to wander (and wonder) my eyes drifted in the direction of the view outside the screened porch. There was a hefty breeze (tornadoes in Iowa) and I could hear the trees chatter despite the closed windows and the running HVAC (which, granted, is quiet.)
I rubbed my head to soften the pain of the clue-by-four and considered this from all angles. Reflects the nature around us. Yes. Is a kind of retreat where one can feel safe and protected. Yes. Can also be a place to gather buddies. Yes. Is a pun, which is always a plus for Husband. Yes. Short (although two syllables) and easy to remember. Yes. Fits both of us. Yes. In other words, perfect.
Thus are houses christened.
Side note: Husband threatened to paint a sign on a plank of wood stating "no gurlz." for the front door. I told him he should feel free, as I would place a "no boyz" sign on the bathroom door. So far, no one has posted anything.