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Five new things got named here this weekend–another thrift shop Barbie whom Nella named Kayak, a little crab we found on the beach–bestowed with “Fred”–and three new stuffed animal dogs from a puppy party we attended–Latte, Tooby and Harrington. The names now join the archives of Objects We Bestow With Names and are preceded by pretty much anything and everything in our house–plants, cars, toothbrushes, my camera, pillows, you name it–no pun intended. I’ve passed my obsession now down to the kids–we name the trees in our yard (Mr. Sam and Penelope), our bikes (Little Red, Flying Frida) and–I’m sorry to say–Dash waved goodbye to something in the toilet the other day, squeaking out a little, “Bye Bob!” as it swirled and funneled down the hole.
I’m not the only one in our family who has naming issues. My brother calls us all a different name every time he talks to us. I practically don’t even notice anymore when I pick up the phone and he says, “Hey Janet” or “What’s up, Pamela?” and just keeps on talking. And then he’ll end the conversation with, “Seriously though, Nancy, I miss you. Tell Bill I said hi.”
I was feeling like surely this naming things must mean something psychologically, and usually I assume the worst–I’m lacking something, I’m searching for something, I have attachment issues–but, alas! Guess who approves of the naming things? The Queen, dude: Anne Shirley.
I give you Exhibit A, a passage from L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables:
“What is the name of that geranium on the window sill, please?”
“That’s the apple scented geranium.”
“Oh, I don’t mean that sort of a name. I mean just a name you gave it yourself. Didn’t you give it one then? May I call it–let me see–Bonny would do–may I call it Bonny while I’m here? Oh, do let me!”
“Goodness, I don’t care. But where on earth is the sense of naming a geranium?”
“Oh, I like things to have handles on them even if they are only geraniums. It makes them more like people.”
See! I knew it! It’s my love of people. My Thanksgiving table might not have 30 people around it, but if you count Cecilia the centerpiece and Rodrigo, the gravy boat and the 12 named members of the Plate family, it’s a complete houseful. So many little friends lining our shelves and covering our beds and getting us to and from school every day!
So admit it–does your family vehicle have a name? What is it? My minivan is Rhonda, and she’s a real free spirit.
Sorry–carrying on.
When we’re not naming things, we’re enjoying lately…
The Return to Isle of Capri.
…where everybody knows your name…and they’re always glad you came. You want to go people know…people are all the same.
Who needs Cheers when you have a basket of grouper fingers and a crab friend named Fred?
My friend Katie introduced Dash to a water gun, and I felt the earth shift when it entered his hands. We shall never be the same. I was talking to someone later on the beach and wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing as he walked up to me. From, like, 4 inches from me, he unloaded half the Gulf of Mexico on my face and laughed hard.
This has only happened a couple times since I’ve lived here–the tide pulled way back to reveal sea stars everywhere. We couldn’t collect them fast enough and made a little pool for them to stay in the water–kids got to touch and feel, and then we made sure they were deep enough to carry on their merry way before we left. In case you wondering, pictured below is Lyle, Gina, Shorty, Babs, Rita, Knuckles, and Emilio Esteves.
…and this is Huckleberry.
Fred makes his reappearance. Dash was the only one fearless enough to hold him.
Also enjoying…current salad obsession: romaine, gorgonzola, chopped almonds, dried cherries, chopped granny smith apples and covered with something vinaigrette-ish.
Spring watermelon.
My sweet and simple gold sandals from my fave Børn picks for spring–they go with everything!
All 3 on a bed.
I love when anything brings them together in one small space. This bed does that a lot.
Sweet Puppy Faces
(for Ivy’s puppy party–Dash wasn’t feeling well, so he stayed home.)
…and a Blue Sky/Water Cocktail.
Damn straight that cocktail needs a name. Let’s see, Sea Breeze is already a cocktail. So is Blue Horizon–I looked it up. Little Piece of Heaven–taken. A Day at the Beach–also taken. Seriously, how are all these already cocktails?
How about Larry? If you can’t think of a name for something, Larry always works. Blue Sky meets Cerulean Sea–also known as Larry. There’s gin in there. And some sea salt. And it’s delicious.
I’ll have a Larry on the rocks with a twist please.
…sunny day to you.
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