I name things. Inanimate objects, plants, wild animals. Teddy the Wondermunk is a good example. So is his new friend, Edward (also a chipmunk), who appears to have made his home under our front porch. When I was a kid, everything — I mean everything, including rocks and spiders — was named George, sometimes by me and sometimes by my dad, who was the one who taught me to name things George. These days, I’ve added more variety. A few months ago, we had two spiders living in the cellar eating every other spider that wandered into their path. I named them Bonnie and Clyde.
Here’s a rundown of everyone living in Location 27 today (apologies for the iPhone photo quality!):
From left to right: Spike, Fred and George (There’s still always at least one.)
Middle: Big Bird and Gloria
Front: Lord Count Quigan (He’s been having a rough time of it lately. I am trying to bring him back, but I think he’s having some depression issues due to my husband’s refusal to acknowledge his name.)
LaGoya (pronounced La-Hoy-a)
Enzo (My husband, however, calls him Kevin, because he swears Enzo told him that his real name is Kevin.)
Finesse and Alonzo
And not pictured: Kitty (the car) and Izzy (the iMac).
That list is actually a lot shorter than I would have expected. Then again, we’ve only lived here for seven months. Give me time.
The names usually just come to me, and I like to think that it’s because they all introduce themselves, but realistically I’m probably just that special breed of “special” reserved for the crazy aunt who talks to spoons. Odd then that on Saturday, when my mother-in-law surprised my husband and I with this adorable Dwarf Brush Cherry bonsai…
…to celebrate our fourth wedding anniversary (coming up tomorrow!), the little gal’s (or guy’s!) name just wouldn’t come to me. It still hasn’t. I feel like the darn tree is holding out on me!
That’s why we need you. I may be a spoon-talking freak as previously mentioned, but he needs a name. How can I stand there and water her like we’re just a couple of strangers? So send me your best suggestion. And maybe be so kind as to let me know if anyone out there is crazy enough to admit that they’re on a naming spree just like me. Or, for that matter, feel free to share if anyone out there actually does talk to spoons. Then again, you probably don’t want to admit that.